Herman came to me in early 2022, a month or so before Patch's passing.
The local pet store I had started to frequent had budgies for sale and I was very taken with young Herman, who was bright, alert and extremely handsome.
During his quarantine, he seemed neither tame nor afraid of me and would run across my hand if it was in the cage, on his way to wherever he was going. He seemed to be tolerant of me. Herman was a fantastic flier, I recall.
It was a while after Patch travelled over the Rainbow Bridge that Eeyore and Herman struck up a friendship. Eeyore mourned Patch for a long time, far longer than I would have expected. However, after Herman's first burst of exuberance from being a member of his new flock, he started to settle and that is when his friendship with Eeyore grew into a lasting one.
Herman was one of my friendliest budgies. He wasn't step-up tame like Mr Hibs but with a suitable bribe, he would readily pop onto my finger to accept a millet bribe. And during the phase when I used to get up to six budgies at once perching on me in the kitchen, just for fun, Herman was quite often the first to do so. He was an enthusiastic player in the Pop-Up Budgie Game that still takes place on top of the kitchen cupboards.
Herman was about two years old when I became certain that he had some issues. He was prone to growing an over-long beak, he went through a short phase of dark patches on his beak, which suggested liver problems. He's poops were not very satisfactory, which suggested slight kidney dysfunction. A year before his passing, Herman started to display what could have been a tendency to splay-leg but it was obvious that was not the issue and I began to suspect a tumour.
When Eeyore was ill in September 2025 and he required his own space in the Hospital Cage, Herman's health seemed to decline sharply. After Eeyore's passing, I had to house Herman in the Hospital and I prepared myself for the worst but against my expectation, Herman eventually rallied and I was able to release him back into the GenPop.
From this time I had to monitor Herman very closely as he was clearly frail. His need for special attention and care gradually grew. A few months before he passed, his cere started to go brown which suggested to me that the tumour was affecting his testosterone levels. A month or so before his passing, Herman started to suffer seizures.
Eventually, I needed to institute feeding sessions for Herman. Although he was very independent-minded, he required help as although able to fly for short stints, perching wasn't easy for him, his legs had become very weak. He used to land on my head when he was hungry so I would take him off to the kitchen on his own (or sometimes accompanied by Prothall) and sit him on his own seed bowl, laced with Guardian Angel. Herman also accepted millet treats from me but this used to cause riots amongst the other birds so I tried to be sneaky about that.
A couple days before his passing I noticed that Herman was going through the motions of eating but his consumption was down and I knew it wouldn't be long.
On the afternoon of his passing I had closed him in the kitchen with Prothall for company for a feed session. When I later opened the door, Prothall was on the window perch but Herman was nowhere to be found.
Increasingly panicked, I searched the entire house, behind the fridge, on top of the kitchen cupboards, inside the cupboards, everywhere. I was convinced he was trapped somewhere and I had to rescue him but I eventually realised what the reason I couldn't find him was. I then found him behind the flashlight I keep on the windowsill. He had probably had a final seizure and fallen off the perch. I stroked his head for a time but knew he was gone.
He now rests in the garden in the plot next to Eeyore.
For myself, I feel utterly hollowed-out. I'm not going be able to coax him onto my hand, or treat him to millet or listen to his quiet song, ever again. I don't feel like it's hit me properly yet.
Fare well, Handsome Herman. In a worthwhile universe, you are reunited with your friend Eeyore over the Rainbow Bridge, in fields of millet and budgie joy.
The local pet store I had started to frequent had budgies for sale and I was very taken with young Herman, who was bright, alert and extremely handsome.
During his quarantine, he seemed neither tame nor afraid of me and would run across my hand if it was in the cage, on his way to wherever he was going. He seemed to be tolerant of me. Herman was a fantastic flier, I recall.
It was a while after Patch travelled over the Rainbow Bridge that Eeyore and Herman struck up a friendship. Eeyore mourned Patch for a long time, far longer than I would have expected. However, after Herman's first burst of exuberance from being a member of his new flock, he started to settle and that is when his friendship with Eeyore grew into a lasting one.
Herman was one of my friendliest budgies. He wasn't step-up tame like Mr Hibs but with a suitable bribe, he would readily pop onto my finger to accept a millet bribe. And during the phase when I used to get up to six budgies at once perching on me in the kitchen, just for fun, Herman was quite often the first to do so. He was an enthusiastic player in the Pop-Up Budgie Game that still takes place on top of the kitchen cupboards.
Herman was about two years old when I became certain that he had some issues. He was prone to growing an over-long beak, he went through a short phase of dark patches on his beak, which suggested liver problems. He's poops were not very satisfactory, which suggested slight kidney dysfunction. A year before his passing, Herman started to display what could have been a tendency to splay-leg but it was obvious that was not the issue and I began to suspect a tumour.
When Eeyore was ill in September 2025 and he required his own space in the Hospital Cage, Herman's health seemed to decline sharply. After Eeyore's passing, I had to house Herman in the Hospital and I prepared myself for the worst but against my expectation, Herman eventually rallied and I was able to release him back into the GenPop.
From this time I had to monitor Herman very closely as he was clearly frail. His need for special attention and care gradually grew. A few months before he passed, his cere started to go brown which suggested to me that the tumour was affecting his testosterone levels. A month or so before his passing, Herman started to suffer seizures.
Eventually, I needed to institute feeding sessions for Herman. Although he was very independent-minded, he required help as although able to fly for short stints, perching wasn't easy for him, his legs had become very weak. He used to land on my head when he was hungry so I would take him off to the kitchen on his own (or sometimes accompanied by Prothall) and sit him on his own seed bowl, laced with Guardian Angel. Herman also accepted millet treats from me but this used to cause riots amongst the other birds so I tried to be sneaky about that.
A couple days before his passing I noticed that Herman was going through the motions of eating but his consumption was down and I knew it wouldn't be long.
On the afternoon of his passing I had closed him in the kitchen with Prothall for company for a feed session. When I later opened the door, Prothall was on the window perch but Herman was nowhere to be found.
Increasingly panicked, I searched the entire house, behind the fridge, on top of the kitchen cupboards, inside the cupboards, everywhere. I was convinced he was trapped somewhere and I had to rescue him but I eventually realised what the reason I couldn't find him was. I then found him behind the flashlight I keep on the windowsill. He had probably had a final seizure and fallen off the perch. I stroked his head for a time but knew he was gone.
He now rests in the garden in the plot next to Eeyore.
For myself, I feel utterly hollowed-out. I'm not going be able to coax him onto my hand, or treat him to millet or listen to his quiet song, ever again. I don't feel like it's hit me properly yet.
Fare well, Handsome Herman. In a worthwhile universe, you are reunited with your friend Eeyore over the Rainbow Bridge, in fields of millet and budgie joy.
but I don't think daddeh will ever be quite the same as you took a piece of his heart with you. x
