Isabeau has passed away. She was, as best as I can work out, just shy of her fourth hatch day.
She'd been slowing down for a couple of weeks, with short bursts of energy that were getting further and further apart.
I saw on Sunday that she was unable or unwilling to perch but put this down to her getting eggy again. She'd been laying an egg every one or two weeks and soon after doing so, she was more her usual self but by yesterday, it was apparent she was really struggling. There was tail-bob and heaving for breath and I phoned for a vet appointment. My usual vet was unavailable but I was able to get a suitable vet in a related practice for this afternoon.
This morning Isabeau was still with us but it was clear that she was near the end and I accepted that this visit to the vet would be her last. I went shopping mid-morning but on my return, I found her propped up in the corner of her cage and only having just gone, based upon her still being slightly warm.
She'd left no droppings on Monday and a really big one this morning revealed undigested seeds.
I really don't know what the cause for all this was. It may have been egg-binding but the signs of slow decline predate her last round of laying. My mind goes back to her accident in December which she appeared to recover from but in retrospect, I see that her flying, running and climbing skills had been declining for some time. The vet in December hinted that her crash might not have caused her problems but that a problem had caused her crash. This seems more likely now.
Isabeau's boyfriend Whistle passed away in November last year and now my golden girl is gone too. I am and will always be wracked with guilt for not letting the pair raise a clutch of their chicks. I know why I made that decision but the reason isn't helping.
Isabeau was a characterful hen, full of life and enthusiasm, a willing if clumsy flier and a relentless explorer of her environment. She made me smile and laugh in a hundred little ways and she was, in a large flock, a unique budgie. I will miss her terribly.
Isabeau rests now next to Whistle, in the garden under the cherry tree.
Fly high my beautiful girl and bless you for the time you gave me.
She'd been slowing down for a couple of weeks, with short bursts of energy that were getting further and further apart.
I saw on Sunday that she was unable or unwilling to perch but put this down to her getting eggy again. She'd been laying an egg every one or two weeks and soon after doing so, she was more her usual self but by yesterday, it was apparent she was really struggling. There was tail-bob and heaving for breath and I phoned for a vet appointment. My usual vet was unavailable but I was able to get a suitable vet in a related practice for this afternoon.
This morning Isabeau was still with us but it was clear that she was near the end and I accepted that this visit to the vet would be her last. I went shopping mid-morning but on my return, I found her propped up in the corner of her cage and only having just gone, based upon her still being slightly warm.
She'd left no droppings on Monday and a really big one this morning revealed undigested seeds.
I really don't know what the cause for all this was. It may have been egg-binding but the signs of slow decline predate her last round of laying. My mind goes back to her accident in December which she appeared to recover from but in retrospect, I see that her flying, running and climbing skills had been declining for some time. The vet in December hinted that her crash might not have caused her problems but that a problem had caused her crash. This seems more likely now.
Isabeau's boyfriend Whistle passed away in November last year and now my golden girl is gone too. I am and will always be wracked with guilt for not letting the pair raise a clutch of their chicks. I know why I made that decision but the reason isn't helping.
Isabeau was a characterful hen, full of life and enthusiasm, a willing if clumsy flier and a relentless explorer of her environment. She made me smile and laugh in a hundred little ways and she was, in a large flock, a unique budgie. I will miss her terribly.
Isabeau rests now next to Whistle, in the garden under the cherry tree.
Fly high my beautiful girl and bless you for the time you gave me.
the rainbow is a little brighter yellow now.
