My father's parrot, Admiral Nelson, died yesterday of what the vets called a heart attack. Enlarged chambers, shrunken arteries, went instantly. He had no other health problems and was acting completely normal when we saw him on Tuesday. We got him back in the '80s as a Christmas present for dad. They bonded, and Admiral sailed with my dad & stepmom when they transitioned to their cruising lifestyle.Katherine took excellent care of the Admiral, and he could have lived another 30-40 years. But parrots bond with their primary humans, and veterinary literature is full of stories just like this. Quite literally died of a broken heart. He was the last of the pets we had in the house on Sutter Avenue in Palo Alto. The house that we just sold.
It is truly the end of an era. I can almost hear the page turning.
For some reason Blogspot is having trouble with pics... I'll keep trying.
1 comment:
It's so weird to me how deaths always happen in groups. Five members of my fairly small "regular family" (that is, relatives I saw regularly and felt close to) -- and two pets -- all died within a short period of time in the early 90's. I was pretty much able to mourn my dad and my dog, and everyone else pretty much got shafted on the grief scale. What can you do? There's only so much to go around.
Fair thee well, ye fine-feathered Admiral -- ye looked like a right handsome bird!
P.S. Me likey the pirate photos, too. :)
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