Elynn's Good-bye

There is always a fear that hangs around and never lets go when there is an aging parrot here with a connection to one or both of us.  Sometimes we get to fight, and we win for a while until ultimately, death wins. 

When we have hope, it’s like a constant buzzing in the back of your mind.  Like the sounds in a busy location with hundreds of people talking all at once.  You can’t make out what they are saying but you can hear them.  You can pull bits and pieces of the conversations and words.  That’s what it’s like when you fight for a bird’s life.  You hold onto the hope.  Ideas pop into your head and if you have a good veterinarian, they help to guide you on the right choices for the bird.  So many ideas floating constantly, researching, talking, veterinarian visits, and the list goes on.  All these possible rays of hope and you can grab the ones that might just work.

Eventually though, the sound quiets, and hope is all gone.

Sometimes, we just “know” that a bird is going to be leaving us soon.  We don’t know how we know, we just know.  There is a connection that is hard to explain.  Unless you have had such a relationship with an animal, it’s not something you can fully understand.

About a week ago, out of nowhere, Matt told me that he felt “it” was coming to take his Elynn. He tried as much as he could to spend as much time as he could with her, all the while hoping that the feeling was wrong. 

With no employees or volunteers to work here, there wasn’t much time for visits with Elynn.  Our winters have been so easy the past 3 years, so this was the year it chose to make up for the easier winters with a winter straight out of Siberia with the blistering cold and wet weather.  Snow, rain, sleet, hail, ice,… you name it, we’ve had it.  This has caused our barn build to be pushed back repeatedly and even though we figured 3 months at the most for boarding our rescue boy, Rojo… he needs to get home sooner for various reasons. 

This past Monday Morning it was a normal crazy day with so much going on.  Even with an earlier than normal rise, there was just too much going on with personal issues, work issues, animal issues, weather issues catching up to us… it all hit at once.

Walking into the Special Needs Aviary, next to her favorite rock where she would rest in the gentle breeze from the heater, sweet Elynn passed peacefully in her sleep.  Matt’s world came crashing down with a crushing force inexplicable in words.  I’ve been there.  Charlie’s death still crashes down on me now 2 years later. Elynn showed no obvious signs of illness. She acted completely normal. It was just a feeling. Like Charlie, I knew 2 weeks before his passing, that was coming. I don’t know how, it just was.

Even though with so much going on here at the sanctuary on so many levels, everything had to come to a stop while we stood together outside weeping in the cold morning air.  Birds all over the sanctuary calling out for their fresh food, and we couldn’t bring ourselves to move.  It hurt too much even to breathe.  Eventually, we found the strength to continue to care for the others who were calling out for their fresh food. 

I can’t tell you how much it sucks to be unable to properly mourn the loss of a bird like her.  We know she had an amazing comeback after the cancer diagnosis and surgery.  We remember how we felt when dropping her off at the veterinarian office knowing that she may not wake up from the surgery.  All the tests prior to the surgery, she handled it all so well.  She made it home and lived in the house while she healed after a successful surgical operation to remove the cancer.  Matt would lay with her on the couch rubbing her head and neck where she was unable to do so on her own because of the collar she had to wear after her surgery.  She was such a good bird, I can’t imagine she would’ve picked the stitches.  She was just that damn perfect.  One of a kind. 

She had about 6 more months here with us after the cancer was removed from her body.  Every day she found joy.  She was so happy.  Her voice singing with the others.  Friendships were made with her flock mates.  Everyone loved her, and she loved everyone.  She loved her fresh food.  She loved her head rubs from Matt.  She loved opening her wings even though her aging body no longer allowed her to fly.  She loved “beaking” Matt’s finger. 

Elynn, loved life.  She was in her 40's. She will continue to live on through the memories we have of her.  We will never forget her.

Fly high, beautiful girl.