About a year and a half ago, I found a baby bird on the sidewalk while I was biking around. She had fallen from her nest and was on the verge of dying. I took her home, I saved her. I raised her. I taught her how to fly. I trained her. I watched her grow from a helpless baby to a beautiful adult before my eyes. Just last night, she was acting really funny. I went to her cage and took her out, like I sometimes do, and noticed she was acting especially sluggish, and limping. I knew she was dying, but I don't know why. Maybe it's because it's cold, maybe she ate something bad somehow. But she's been a lively spirit for a year and a half so I don't see why her life came to a slow, painful stop. I took a basket and made a nest out of clothes and tucked her in so she could sleep by my bed for one last night, knowing she wouldn't leave the basket. She was still when I woke up... I have a lot of pets, but Diabla was the only one that I actually considered mine since I had her at both houses, since my parents are divorced. She was my first actual pet, since I raised her and took her everywhere. There wasn't really a day without that bird, so she meant more than a lot to me...
Ikara Emberhawk · Sat Dec 19, 2009 @ 03:05pm · 0 Comments |