Yesterday, I arrived home from work to find that my beloved budgie, Daphne, had passed during the day. She was on the floor of her cage, in the corner. We only had her one week shy of four years. It wasn't long enough.
I'm just glad that it didn't happen on our pet sitter's watch, and that I cuddled her and told her how much I loved her before I left for work that day, part of our usual routine. I wish I could have been there for her at the end. She hid her illness well.
I truly hope she didn't suffer, and that she knew she was loved, even though she was alone at the end. Even though she was one of the quieter budgies I've ever met, the absence of budgie-chatter is deafening.
Thomas buried her in what we call our budgie garden -- where Lenny, Ethel, and Jeff Saturday also rest. It's a place in our backyard where the tiger lilies are in the process of growing.She was one of the most gentle souls I've ever met. I miss her so much.