Paulie is gone

 My cranky bug died this morning.

I knew the end was coming. Two years ago, when he still had two eyes and could still climb, the vet wanted to put him to sleep. Despite the fact he couldn’t fly, he could still move around quickly and hold his own with his two cockatiel brothers, so I said no, the end comes when Paulie calls it.

Decline was so gradual I didn’t realize it was happening. He lost an eye to infection last year. And by degrees, he slowed, didn’t climb as high, until I realized yesterday he couldn’t climb at all anymore.

I took him out quite a bit yesterday. He didn’t like me holding him as a rule, but he enjoyed skritches, and he basked in the attention.

Last night, Gary refused to get into the cage. I didn’t cover the cage but closed the door to the room. It’s not the first time he refused to get back in the cage, so as long as I closed off the room, he’d be fine.

At 3 am, I heard Nic and G talking loudly in the hallway.I shushed them and heard the birds chirping quietly behind the closed door.

This morning, I opened the door and George and Gary were sitting on top of the cage. Paulie was on his back at the bottom. 

I thought for a split second to call my mom. She likely already knew, not being on this side of the veil anymore. I brought his still body downstairs, where he lay in state on top of the washer until every one paid respects and said goodbye.

He’s now the guardian of the magnolia behind the garage, attended by wrens and cardinals.

God speed, you little crank pot. We will miss you.