Post by clt80 on Sept 29, 2018 8:45:34 GMT
One year ago today an egg was laid. Several more were laid over the coming week and on the 8thof October a fourth egg was laid; this particular egg hatched on the 28th October and from it came the beautiful Ida.
Last Wednesday Ida died, she was found inside the aviary on her back near the seed pots by my OH. I do not know what took her: a heart attack, a stroke, a seizure of some kind or maybe a seed that got stuck in her airways. I shall never know and my mind has tried to imagine what happened to my precious Ida a million times. I buried Ida last night when I returned home, the sun had set and she has been laid to rest near the aviary next to Rita. I have put some tete-a-tete daffodils ontop of her grave. I have wrote a letter to Ida - it is lengthly but it encompasses everything I want to tell her.
Dear Ida,
You were the fourth little hatchling that unexpectedly happened to Shirley and John last year. You will never know the joy you brought to me, you were so small and so late developing compared to your sister and brothers. You made up for in it in attitude; by far you had the strongest constitution, nothing ever fazed you. Your siblings didn't venture out of the nest box until they had started to get pin feathers, but not you, the mighty Ida strode out with attitude albeit having no clothes on.
I would pick you up and check you over then weigh you, you'd look around taking everything in. You were so clever at such a young age. Long after the others had grown all their feathers you were still naked, and I use to call you little baldy. Ida you were one of the cutest things I ever did see. You did not care what you looked like, you did not care how small you were. You cared about food and being warm, and you made sure everyone knew this. Even though you were developing slowly physically, in mind and spirit you were miles ahead of the others.
I often think you had it the hardest out of your clutch. Your parents did a fabulous job, but you being the youngest had to do more for yourself at a younger age than the others had to. You coped wonderfully. I was, and still am, so proud of you.
Whilst you were still growing there were visitors, Mabel and then Harold. You didn't care much for either of them, because you'd now learned to perch and could climb up to the toys and swings in your cage. The swings were your particular favourite, you'd often be found on one preening away your pin feathers. When you had no one on the see saw swing with you, you would always hang from it upside down and slide through to the other side, always thinking outside of the box and making something interesting out of something that really wasn't so. Your mind worked differently to the others, you stood out.
When it was time to go out to the big world, in the aviary and to meet the others I was worried how you'd be. I need not have worried, you flew out the cage and straight into the middle of everyone and pecked the nearest bud to you: Ida had arrived. Ironically it was your big sister who needed to come back inside for a while and then she tried again a few weeks later. You Ida, you just integrated yourself right into the way of life and never looked back. You were very brave for you were so young, but you needed no one - just yourself and all was right with the world.
Whilst I was busy speculating about one of your brothers looking for a partner, you quietly and quickly paired up with Harold. Harold was known for being a bit of a pest with the ladies but you tamed him. Maybe it was from him being inside briefly whilst you were that you felt comfortable with him. He would feed you, preen you, play with you and follow you around. It was a lovely sight and I will never forget when I first saw you both together. You had someone to play with you on the see saw swing. I have lost count of the amount of times I had come to see you all and you would be hanging upside down from something or squarking the loudest; you always made me laugh Ida, you were superb.
You were only 11 months old when OH called to say we'd lost someone. From his description I suspected it was your sister as she was the smallest; Once fully grown you were always slightly bigger than her and I put this down to your good appetite. I had another day until I could be home and I could not bear to not say goodbye properly. I wanted to tend to you myself. I would never see you alive again, but I wanted to see you and hold you one last time.
Yesterday evening I saw you, in your box and it was you Ida. I held you and I kissed you. The tears streamed as they are doing now and the eternal question that will haunt me will be - what happened to you? You were so young and healthy and as most things in life it is just so unfair that you have been taken away. You had a good life but it was far too short, you should have had years of happiness infront of you. I pray that you did not suffer at the end. I am sorry I was not there to help. My heart is broken.
Harold is missing you, your family are missing you, your friends are missing you and of course my sweet one - I am missing you. I will never forget you and am thankful that you were in my life, even though it was for too short of a time. You were the youngest out of the entire flock - but you were the most courageous.
Sleep sweetly my sweetheart - until we meet again, I love you xxx
Last Wednesday Ida died, she was found inside the aviary on her back near the seed pots by my OH. I do not know what took her: a heart attack, a stroke, a seizure of some kind or maybe a seed that got stuck in her airways. I shall never know and my mind has tried to imagine what happened to my precious Ida a million times. I buried Ida last night when I returned home, the sun had set and she has been laid to rest near the aviary next to Rita. I have put some tete-a-tete daffodils ontop of her grave. I have wrote a letter to Ida - it is lengthly but it encompasses everything I want to tell her.
Dear Ida,
You were the fourth little hatchling that unexpectedly happened to Shirley and John last year. You will never know the joy you brought to me, you were so small and so late developing compared to your sister and brothers. You made up for in it in attitude; by far you had the strongest constitution, nothing ever fazed you. Your siblings didn't venture out of the nest box until they had started to get pin feathers, but not you, the mighty Ida strode out with attitude albeit having no clothes on.
I would pick you up and check you over then weigh you, you'd look around taking everything in. You were so clever at such a young age. Long after the others had grown all their feathers you were still naked, and I use to call you little baldy. Ida you were one of the cutest things I ever did see. You did not care what you looked like, you did not care how small you were. You cared about food and being warm, and you made sure everyone knew this. Even though you were developing slowly physically, in mind and spirit you were miles ahead of the others.
I often think you had it the hardest out of your clutch. Your parents did a fabulous job, but you being the youngest had to do more for yourself at a younger age than the others had to. You coped wonderfully. I was, and still am, so proud of you.
Whilst you were still growing there were visitors, Mabel and then Harold. You didn't care much for either of them, because you'd now learned to perch and could climb up to the toys and swings in your cage. The swings were your particular favourite, you'd often be found on one preening away your pin feathers. When you had no one on the see saw swing with you, you would always hang from it upside down and slide through to the other side, always thinking outside of the box and making something interesting out of something that really wasn't so. Your mind worked differently to the others, you stood out.
When it was time to go out to the big world, in the aviary and to meet the others I was worried how you'd be. I need not have worried, you flew out the cage and straight into the middle of everyone and pecked the nearest bud to you: Ida had arrived. Ironically it was your big sister who needed to come back inside for a while and then she tried again a few weeks later. You Ida, you just integrated yourself right into the way of life and never looked back. You were very brave for you were so young, but you needed no one - just yourself and all was right with the world.
Whilst I was busy speculating about one of your brothers looking for a partner, you quietly and quickly paired up with Harold. Harold was known for being a bit of a pest with the ladies but you tamed him. Maybe it was from him being inside briefly whilst you were that you felt comfortable with him. He would feed you, preen you, play with you and follow you around. It was a lovely sight and I will never forget when I first saw you both together. You had someone to play with you on the see saw swing. I have lost count of the amount of times I had come to see you all and you would be hanging upside down from something or squarking the loudest; you always made me laugh Ida, you were superb.
You were only 11 months old when OH called to say we'd lost someone. From his description I suspected it was your sister as she was the smallest; Once fully grown you were always slightly bigger than her and I put this down to your good appetite. I had another day until I could be home and I could not bear to not say goodbye properly. I wanted to tend to you myself. I would never see you alive again, but I wanted to see you and hold you one last time.
Yesterday evening I saw you, in your box and it was you Ida. I held you and I kissed you. The tears streamed as they are doing now and the eternal question that will haunt me will be - what happened to you? You were so young and healthy and as most things in life it is just so unfair that you have been taken away. You had a good life but it was far too short, you should have had years of happiness infront of you. I pray that you did not suffer at the end. I am sorry I was not there to help. My heart is broken.
Harold is missing you, your family are missing you, your friends are missing you and of course my sweet one - I am missing you. I will never forget you and am thankful that you were in my life, even though it was for too short of a time. You were the youngest out of the entire flock - but you were the most courageous.
Sleep sweetly my sweetheart - until we meet again, I love you xxx