I always knew that a body was just a shell to hold that spark of life. But nothing drove it home until the death of a pet.
We had a cat a few years back that died, but I was pregnant with RooBoo and scared that it may have died from something "bad" and I didn't want to jeopardize my baby. Turns out it died of a urinary blockage, but that isn't this story.
Our parakeets are "hand-me-downs" from my sister-in-law and nephew, who found that they couldn't handle the chatter of these three birds. Parakeets are very social and need a friend. Or a mirror that they think is a friend. It's nice to have such simple needs. But the noise was driving B crazy.
As I had a friend with this kind of bird, and I lusted after having one of my own, it was a perfect thing that she wanted to "lose" the birds. The chatter is something I enjoy - a pretty, spring-y noise. Hubbers was less than thrilled but he loves me and the kids and the birds made the 4 hour car ride home with us from B's house.
We promptly renamed the birds: Blue male = Eragon, blue female = Geena, yellow female = Hermoinie. The friend that had parakeets was looking for a male bird and at that time we thought the yellow was a male, so off "he" went to Missy's house. That left us two blue birds. Geena was a bit more calm so I started finger training her and she quickly grew used to us. One day, while out in the house, the neighbor kid opened the door and off Geena went. Bye Bye Birdy.
That left us with one bird. Missy had decided that yellow bird wasn't a male and the other female was attacking her, so we brought Hermie home. And that's the way it's been for a year or two. And then Eragon started acting odd, not himself. Not wanting to sit on the perch, being super calm and easy to coax into tricks, not flying when let out, quiet.
This lasted about two weeks. Yesterday I noticed him walking about on the bottom of the cage, normal for him now. But when I was on my way to do an errand I glanced in the cage and noticed Eragon sprawled on the floor of the cage, head at a right angle to his body like the side of the cage was his pillow.
The kids took it okay. RooBoo, her tender self, cried. Curly Girl was sad, Oldest Girl said "Bye, Eragon. Off to the great birdcage in the sky", and The Boy solemnly told Eragon goodbye.
Back to the body as a vessel. Hubbers says animals have no souls. But they have personalities and I don't understand how those two can be seperate. One of the mysteries to be solved when I meet Jesus, I suppose. I found myself praying for my little blue parakeet last night. I figured that God would know what I meant.
Sadly, I had to use a stock photo of a blue parakeet in this post since I couldn't find one of the few pictures I had taken of the birds. Funny how something so much a part of my life wasn't documented more.