For You, Jen: Daisy

Today’s blog is for my daughter, Jen.

It’s amazing how much a pet comes
to mean to us everyday. Someone said yesterday,
“It wasn’t the same as losing a dog.”
Does that make the hurt any less?

As many readers know, I’ve blogged
about Daisy, our lovebird, on numerous occasions.
She died yesterday.

We all had an attachment to her.
Even Daisy’s vet said that she was the most
resilient, sweet bird he’d encountered in a long time.
She always looked like she was smiling.

Jen and Daisy were on the lanai yesterday morning,
probably on ‘Cruiser’ watch. Daisy liked to walk
around the decking by the pool.

She was always honing the edges of her beak
along the textured concrete. Recently we needed
to take the edge off her sharp beak--she could punch
a hole through leather, it was so sharp.

Suddenly, Daisy toppled over into the frigid pool,
wings flapping. Jen quickly grabbed her out,
and spent several minutes trying to revive her,
but the shock was too much for Daisy.
Heartbroken, Jen buried her in the woods.

Daisy was a loving animal. She begged for
and enjoyed her head rubs, and was always nuzzling
our cheeks and necks.

Daisy is missed, but won’t be forgotten…
Turn the sound on high for the spoon clattering!

It's A Purple Bellied Snork...

Zap that bird!
My left eyeball hasn’t met up with the right
one this morning. I’m droopy-tired, along
with Tom--we were both awakened at the crack
of dawn by a highly energized dove. Even earplugs
barely drowned out the incessant cooing.

I got up, and in my brain-haze, made a strong
carafe of coffee, poured it and quickly knocked
the full thermos over onto the counter.
I swear I heard that dove mocking me…

A couple of years ago, we were plagued by a
highly vocalized bird in the woods that sounded
like an escapee from the Amazon rain forest.

Its repetitious melody echoed throughout the woods
at a ghastly hour for several nights. I never caught
sight of the feathered creature--lucky for it, since I was
envisioning the bird’s spiraling descent from its lofty perch.

Our lovebird, Daisy, has acquired some new screeches
into her repertoire of bird noises. Since her recent surgery.
she’s aggravated by the meds she’s forced to ingest every day.

Daisy’s lucky that we’re so patient with her,
with the woods only yards away…

Sweet Little Bird...

Many of my neighbors walk small, fluffy dogs
tethered at the end of a long leash.
We’ve always had a bird.

For readers who don’t know, we have
a cute lovebird, Daisy, who is allowed
to flit about the screened-in lanai.

She’s adventurous and a little sneaky:
Daisy flew from Jen’s shoulder awhile back,
outside to the woods.

Flying to the highest pine tree branch,
she baked under the Florida sun for at least
3 hours before deciding to fly back to Jen.

Her little escapade injured an area under
the wing at the time, and a trip to the vet
was her next adventure.

Since Daisy’s flight, things actually were
not going well--the little cut in the crease under
her wing got wider and deeper.

The drive to the avian vet yesterday was an
eye-opener: I’d never seen so many flashy and
expensive cars drive by Jen’s ‘capsule’--what
she calls her kayak-hauling Mazda Tribute.

We both noticed how many younger people
were driving those shiny Ferraris and Lambros.
She’s driven her car almost to exhaustion,
some 100,00 miles, zigzagging like a patchwork
quilt across, up and down the entire state.
I think she’s seen every alligator and iguana, too.

Finally arriving, we hoisted Daisy’s condo-style
cage from the backseat, and entered All
Creatures Animal Hospital. After a few minutes
of listening to Daisy’s frantic chirping, we left.
Daisy requires stitches to close the muscle-exposing
gash under her wing.

This morning, we dropped Daisy off at the vet;
she's home now, bandaged and is wearing a
transparent cone, which she hates.
Little 'tipsy' has fallen asleep, cuddled up in my hand..

Daisy Who?

My daughter, Jenny, took her adorable peach-faced
lovebird, Daisy, to the avian vet today.
The bird's been bothered with a bad
irritation under her wing.

Daisy loves to fly around the pool enclosure.
Jennifer took her outside the enclosure
one day to sit.
Daisy decided to visit the lofty pine trees,
and found herself a branch to perch upon.

After 2 hours of bird-smoozing, she flew back to Jenny.
Since her excursion that day, she's been pecking away
underneath her wing. Apparently birdy had significantly
scratched herself and has since been making it worse.

The cream prescription was called in by the vet,
and Jenny picked it up, using her own name.
"What name, again? We don't have a prescription
for Jennifer. There's one here for Daisy Fowl..."
Say again ?