A sad farewell to Bob Woolhead-Swettenham (centre), who today shuffled off this mortal coil following a short illness which left him weakened and unable to eat.
Unable to fly, possibly as the result of a childhood illness, the longest-surviving of our adopted sons never let his natural disadvantages get the better of him. Tough enough to survive countless falls to the carpet with a feathery thump, he was also resourceful and intelligent in quickly learning how to navigate the system of branches and ladders we set up to enable him to get to the ground from his cage - and, once down there, how to demand a lift when he couldn't be arsed to make his way back up.
Since his faithful companion Vic departed for the great birdcage in the sky back in April, Bob was kept on his toes by Rita and Sue. The two young upstarts may have pestered him to distraction at some points, and showed little respect for their elder, but at least they kept him company, engaging him in chirping contests that soon escalated to screeching wars.
All the best, little chap.
3 comments:
My condolences.
RIP. I remember when my budgie Billy died, just after I'd left home for University. He'd be with us for 14 long years, and when he finally flew off I was devastated. I felt guilty for all the times I'd shouted at him to shut the fuck up when I was hungover...
Our family dog of 13 years died just after I left home for the job I did for six months before going to university. That was really hard to take, going home and her not being there.
If you didn't already know, I'm a soft bastard...
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