My wonderful friend Stanley Sue, an African grey Timneh parrot, died at the vet's last Friday in the process of getting an x-ray. The vet did the best that he could, but the procedure was just too stressful for a bird that had been so ill for so many weeks. (We had to tube feed her twice a day so that she could get enough nutrients to fight her illness.) Our vet told me that her spleen and liver were enlarged, and he thought that she probably had cancer. I did not want an autopsy. I brought Stanley Sue home and buried her in the backyard.

Despite Stanley Sue's illness, which first manifested as pneumonia in early December, I don't believe she suffered much. In fact, I spent a couple of really nice afternoons with her last week. I would sit and read a book in the heated room that we kept her in, and she would crawl down the outside of her cage and 'steal' a grape or nut that I had placed on a tea cart next to her cage. She had an endearing mischievous attitude all along and was never anything but the essence of gentleness with my wife and me, even when we subjected her to something unpleasant like tube feeding.

She ate quite well on her own the last two days, and she really liked it when I praised her for doing that. Her pupils would contract and enlarge, she would tilt her head, and if I kept up the praise, she would bend down and nibble at her perch or the bars of her cage with a look of supreme pride and pleasure about her. The night before she died, she allowed me to scratch her head and neck for a long time after I had put her to bed. I had an odd feeling that this might be the last time I would be doing this, but I put it out of my mind. After all, she had seemed to be improving, and when I took her to the vet, I had been expecting good news.

African grey parrots are extraordinarily intelligent and perceptive beings. And as I think back, I am increasingly convinced that Stanley Sue knew that she didn't have long to live, and that she was as worried about me as I was worried about her. I think that she allowed herself to die at the vet's office, because she knew I couldn't take it to see her die at home. And she did many things over the last week or so that showed me she was trying to reassure me.

I've never had a rapport with another animal like the bond that I've had with Stanley Sue. In fact, in an odd way it almost seems demeaning to even call her an animal. She was a bright and vivid soul. She was one of my closest friends, and I am having a great deal of difficulty dealing with loss.

Thanks to everyone who reads this and to everyone who posts a response.

Bob

Dear Bob,

I am so sorry for your loss of Stanley Sue.

I don't like birds. Well, more than that, I am afraid of them bc my mother was attacked by a rooster when she was a small child, and my mom managed to pass on her bird fear to me.

However, in reading your post, I was actually thinking "Well, **I** want a bird!" She must truly have been a magnificent creature to make even *me* think such a thing.

I agree that Stanley Sue was also worried about you, and doing her best to make her passing as easy on you as possible. She is a special bird and I know that she will be sorely missed.

Love,
Jennifer

Jennifer,

Thank you so much for your nice reply. I don't think most people understand how close of a relationship a person can have with a bird. Parrots can be incredibly loving, but they are not alone. I have a ring-neck dove named Howard who nibbles on my cheek and a hen who greets me at the door of the barn each day.

I can't even describe here the richness of my relationship with Stanley Sue and the degree of affection we could exchange with just a glance. So many of my routines of the day were intertwined with her, especially in the last few weeks when she needed so much care. That is what makes it especially difficult to get through this time.

If you would like to see a couple of photos of her, she is at http://www.enslavedbyducks.com/pages/chapter3.html and features prominently in a book I wrote about my animals.

Thanks again for taking the time to reply to my post, it is greatly appreciated.

Bob

Bob,

What a beautiful parrot ... I went to look at her picture before replying ... hope that is Ok. I am very sorry for your loss but what a wonderful last week you had. I wish there were some magic words that would remove the pain and bring only the happy thoughts but I don't have any. I lost my best friend in September and the tears still come with some regularity but it is getting easier. I hope that some day you will be able to think of her with just smiles ... sounds like the relationship you two shared was special.

Again, my condolences on your loss ,
Beth

Thank you so much, Beth and Jennifer,

I was hoping to find other people here who owned pet birds and understood what wonderful companions they could be and how tough it is to lose a parrot. It could be that people with companion birds simply haven't checked the forum lately. It was so nice of both of you to offer your support. Thanks again for your help.

Bob

Bob,

What a handsome bird Stanley Sue was. Indeed, all of your animals are beautiful and it is wonderful that such animal-lovers as you are around...

There are people who love their birds as you do. Just this past week, a woman at my husband's work, her parrot died. She is devastated. She called him to tell him she couldn't come to work with all the grief. I feel so sorry for her. What's worse is it is my understanding that she got the bird bc she was so damaged by the loss of her last pet, that she got the bird bc she expected it to outlive her. In any case, I told Tim to tell her about the forum...

I don't think it matters what species of companion you lose, in the long run. Even if I am a bit bird phobic personally, I DO understand what it is like to love a companion so much and to feel utterly crushed when they leave us...

Love,
Jennifer

Hi, Jennifer,

Thanks once more for your kind message.

If the woman who works at your husband's office would like to email me about her bird, I would be happy to offer my condolences. It might make her feel a little better just to correspond with another person who has recently lost a treasured bird and has an understanding of what she is going through. My email address is on the "Bio" page of my website.

I also expected my bird to outlive me. Stanley Sue died at only 15 years old, when African grey parrots can live to be 50 years old or more. I'm still in shock at the loss, but I'm doing my best to live in the moment while acknowledging the memory of my dear friend.

Thanks again for your kindness. I appreciate your comments on our other animals, too. Sadly, we have lost some of them as well, but we still have a nice animal family of 37, most of them rescues.

Bob

Hi, Bob:

37 -- wow! I can't even imagine what your food bill is like!

Tim's coworkers bird also had a respitory infection. I don't know her email, but I suppose if Tim told her about the forum... well, I am sure she is coping in her own way.

So are African grey parrots one of the kind that pair bond? I think it was on one of those funny video shows, we saw a woman with a parrot (it was not grey, but I do not remember what kind it was) and the parrot had bonded with her, but saw the husband as a threat. So when they went to bed at night, the parrot would stand on her pillow and give her kisses, but attack the husband when he got into bed.

Love,
Jennifer

Bob-

I'm so sorry for your loss. Any pet that gets into our heart, be it bird, cat, dog, horse or ferret, is a treasure.

It occurred to me tonight, as I mourn the loss of my beloved Bubba, that I hate grieving as I'm sure you must, too.

And these words helped me a bit:

And now I'm glad I didn't know
The way it all would end the way it all would go
Our lives are better left to chance
I could have missed the pain
But I'd of had to miss the dance. (Garth Brooks)

It hurts so much to lose our best friends, but those memories and the things we can giggle at somewhere down the road make this transitory pain worth it. Those years with Stanley Sue you had, and the years with Bubba I had...someday we'll remember, with only an ache instead of searing pain, how good we made it for them and how good they made it for us.

I'm glad Stanley Sue got you for a friend.

May God ease both of our hearts.

Jen