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Baby Bay Blue
06-17-93 thru 11-2-95

Beloved Pet of
Sarah

On June 17, 1992 the little pink creature merged into our world. He (or she) was immediately snatched from the nest to be handfed by his new Mom, Me. He was the most beautiful baby in the entire world. Being the first tim I had hand fed from day one I was a little nervous, to say the least. We both made it through the first few feedings, and it was non eventful after that.
       We were inseparable. He was my baby, my Baby Bay Blue. At the time of Baby’s arrival I was suffering from clinical depression. There were days that I did not get out of bed, only to feed the birds. Now I had a reason to get up, to function.  He was my reason for living. Baby did not have a cage, as he did not need one.  Because if he was not with me was with a ‘birdy-sitter’. He was a little clown and followed me every where. We would spend hours playing or just sitting and cuddling. If he was home and I pulled into the drive her would yell ‘Ma!’ and run to the door. There were times that I feel that I took all that for granted. When I wished he would just leave me alone for one minute. I would give anything to have him back, following me around.  Not having any human children I can say that he was my first child.  The bond is one that I never had before and will probably never have again.
         I began to take Baby to the talks that I gave at schools and different organizations. When Baby was just over one year I did a talk for the local bird club’s annual bird mart. A place I had been the year before with no problems. This year they now were allowing bird venders and exhibit birds. I remember the
sick bird to this day. It was a shamrock macaw. Baby and I approached the bird to alert the owner that it was regurgitating. They said that he was nervous with all the people. I though it a bit odd that they would let the bird stay in that situation if it was that nervous. But who was I to say. I had just given Baby a death sentence. Not knowing that much about PDD I was not concerned. Until about a month later when Baby, who slept on a perch next to my bed, woke me up frantically pulling out his feathers. He acted as if he was being attacked by something. The look in his eyes was terror, which scared me enough to sit up with him all night. I called the vet in the morning, which was not an avian vet, and he said to bring Baby for an exam. By then he was regurgitating and passing whole seeds. I had also read more about PDD and other diseases. Once at the vet he was diagnosed as having an upset crop. I was told to give him chicken,rice and a sulfa drug. I suggested the possibility of Macaw Wasting and was told that it was very rare and that was not the problem.  Needless to say he did not get any better. I was handfeeding him and doing all I could to help. This vet was the closest to avian there was anywhere in the area. And he had helped with minor problems I had had in the past, so I assumed he knew what he was talking about.  It did not take long for him to deteriorate to the point of not being able to perch. I then took him back to the vet who said that all he needed was fluids and that I could pick him up around five that night.  Not knowing, I did not even say good bye. I told him that I would see him later. I was told that they would call if there was any news if not to just come and pick him up at five. I called at three that afternoon to see how he was doing and was notified that he had passed at eleven that morning, only one hour after I had left him. I lost it, I went hysterical. I cannot describe the pain, it was unbearable. I cried for days. I still have days that it is hard, but I know that he is with me and is waiting for me at the rainbow bridge.

Sarah

       


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