After Clifford died, I looked online to find another Cherry-Head Conure because I just loved their temperament and they made me smile.
It was not to replace him. I could ever "replace" a bird that meant so much to me, but I now had room to help another one who needed lots of love.
I found one listed on Lycos (in reality, he was Mitred Conure, but that's ok) and made arrangements to pick him up. My good friends Izzy and Sal went with me on the journey.
He lived with a Russian* woman who was not able to give Pako the time he needed. That’s ok. I did.
*This is why I sometimes call him Comrade Pako.
She knew about the importance of pellets and seemed nice. She had peacocks, 2 plucked ekkies (not sure exactly why they were plucked, I guess they coulda used a bigger cage), a Sun Conure, a Macaw in a macaw cage and I believe an African Gray in her bedroom (I didn’t see the gray).
Pako was in a small-medium cage with no toys. I don’t know if that was his sleepy cage or what, but the cage he was in had no toys. I’m thinking this might be a reason why when I tried to give him toys, he didn’t even acknowledge them. Or maybe that's how he always was...?
He was nervous, nippy, and spirited.
300$ for the boy.
250$ for the BOSS cage waiting for him at home with tons of toys in it that he NEVER STAYED IN and NEVER PLAYED WITH. Hey. Whatever made him happy.
He was content in hanging out on the play-perch on the top of the cage, and slept inside of it at night.
Later, he preferred to chill on the wooden rolly-perch we got him.
I was bit a few times in the beginning, but that’s to be expected. I was a stranger.
We made a stop at Izzy’s and I was wiping a poop of my shoulder and he attacked my neck. I later come to find he has a hatred for paper towels. No idea why. Maybe because his Russian background hates anything that resembles the white flag of defeat. And thus we called paper towels that when they came in contact with him.
I took him for his wellness exam, and THANK GOD FOR WELLNESS EXAMS!
He had aspergillus. A fungal infection of the air sacs.
Turns out, he needed me to take care of him…
He showed no signs of illness, they only found it in the blood work.
I don’t think the Russian lady knew.
We thought he was cured of it once, it came back with vengeance. He was still being medicated for it years later.
Later, he preferred to chill on the wooden rolly-perch we got him.
I was bit a few times in the beginning, but that’s to be expected. I was a stranger.
We made a stop at Izzy’s and I was wiping a poop of my shoulder and he attacked my neck. I later come to find he has a hatred for paper towels. No idea why. Maybe because his Russian background hates anything that resembles the white flag of defeat. And thus we called paper towels that when they came in contact with him.
I took him for his wellness exam, and THANK GOD FOR WELLNESS EXAMS!
He had aspergillus. A fungal infection of the air sacs.
Turns out, he needed me to take care of him…
He showed no signs of illness, they only found it in the blood work.
I don’t think the Russian lady knew.
We thought he was cured of it once, it came back with vengeance. He was still being medicated for it years later.
Through the years, we went to multiple events when he was feeling spunky. Rescue events, birthday parties, Pako Partied with the guys and flirted with the ladies. He loved everyone.
The first person I let him perch on was a Girl Scout at an Earth Day event with the Wildlife Center (he's been to 2 of these). He loved the fluff out of her. After that he would do his head-scoops, signaling "More attentions!" He couldn't get enough of meeting new people. Didn't matter your status, he even made friends with a homeless man.
Pako knew no prejudice.
Dad was his favorite. He would climb off the play perch, down the cage, waddle across the living room, chase the cat (looking like a tiny Godzilla), go into the dining room, and climb on him. He'd preen him, give him his funny feather, do happy head-bobs. He just loved him.
I want to take him off of dad, he'd bow his head to say "no" instead of biting. No one else could get him off of him except me. He knew how to respond to tones of voice, hand signals. I never ever ever doubted how smart and expressive that boy was.
There's so many stories... but now it's time for the sad part.
_______
We were at the ER Clinic Friday night. Dr. Gardner got him back on Baytril, and recommended some Peds Saline Nose Drops. He seemed “ok” enough… The drops soothed his rough breathing.
Saturday Night, I put Pako to bed in the bird room.
We watched K-On, got the itch to learn guitar, so we went and played in the studio room.
Later, he waddled out of the bird room on the other side of the house, into studio room, and stood there wheezing/gasping at us.
I scooped him up and hung out with him on the couch, watching him - Trying to make sure he was calm as to not make the breathing situation worse.
We rushed him back to ER Vets around midnight. They were nice enough not to charge me another vet-visit fee. They injected him with some chill meds and had him in the oxygen box.
They woke up Dr. Backos in Deerfield, since he’s a pro who has lots of good testing equipment, and off we went.
He was nice enough to wake up and tend to him. He was a real bird person.
We got Pako to him around 1am and stayed until 3:00am-ish.
It killed me not to see him being his goofy, loving, Pako-self.
He never had been away from any part of his family before. We hoped they'd find a new way to combat his Aspergillosis.
10/01/12
I recieved the call that Pako has passed. He has gone to see Cliffy.
He was so happy and so full of life, and he declined so fast. I have a ton of happy memories with him. It hurts so much because I wanted to make more happy memories with him.
I’m happy that he doesn’t have to do meds or that nebulizer. He put up with it like a champ and held no grudges against me.
He can fly now. His old wing injury is gone and he can fly.
I’m very grateful that my parents saw him at the vet clinic . They loved on him and the vet lady got nipped because he didn’t want to get off dad’s shoulder and go back in the incubator.
He never liked being in a cage or anything like one.
They loved on him that afternoon and I did the same for him for an hour that evening. I cleaned some food stuffs off his face and he let me.
He wasn’t gasping. He wasn’t breathing too hard. He just looked tired.
I picture him just going to sleep.
Mikey is looking in each room for him, like “Where you hiding him?” They weren’t closest of friends, but they were companions. He knows something is up. He knows we’re sad for a reason.
I laid in bed crying for some time, and asked for a sign that Pako knew how much we loved him. Anything.
Brett was in the other room working, and that’s when he turned on the song he recorded last night for him. The beat was actually based off this funny head bob/rub he did to show affection.
That was his little friend.
Now I hold onto that as my sign that he knew how much he was loved and how much we tried to help him.
"The wolf and the lamb will feed together, and the lion will eat straw like the ox, but dust will be the serpent's food. They will neither harm nor destroy on all my holy mountain," says the LORD. Isaiah 65:25
He was so happy and so full of life, and he declined so fast. I have a ton of happy memories with him. It hurts so much because I wanted to make more happy memories with him.
I’m happy that he doesn’t have to do meds or that nebulizer. He put up with it like a champ and held no grudges against me.
He can fly now. His old wing injury is gone and he can fly.
I’m very grateful that my parents saw him at the vet clinic . They loved on him and the vet lady got nipped because he didn’t want to get off dad’s shoulder and go back in the incubator.
He never liked being in a cage or anything like one.
They loved on him that afternoon and I did the same for him for an hour that evening. I cleaned some food stuffs off his face and he let me.
He wasn’t gasping. He wasn’t breathing too hard. He just looked tired.
I picture him just going to sleep.
Mikey is looking in each room for him, like “Where you hiding him?” They weren’t closest of friends, but they were companions. He knows something is up. He knows we’re sad for a reason.
I laid in bed crying for some time, and asked for a sign that Pako knew how much we loved him. Anything.
Brett was in the other room working, and that’s when he turned on the song he recorded last night for him. The beat was actually based off this funny head bob/rub he did to show affection.
That was his little friend.
Now I hold onto that as my sign that he knew how much he was loved and how much we tried to help him.
"The wolf and the lamb will feed together, and the lion will eat straw like the ox, but dust will be the serpent's food. They will neither harm nor destroy on all my holy mountain," says the LORD. Isaiah 65:25
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