Yesterday Steve came home from work to find that our 9+ year old parakeet, Pippin, had died sometime during the evening. Pippin was a sweet, shy little bird who loved to sing along with the birds outside. A few weeks ago we realized he wasn't singing anymore. A few days ago he let loose with a very short outburst of song and then nothing. I guess we should have figured that something was up, though I'm not sure what we could have done. Her certainly lived a fairly long parakeet life and survived a homicidal mate who tried her best to simultaneously mate and murder. Parakeet sex is not a tender thing, take it from me.
We will miss you and your songs very much Pippin. Who will bite Steve's nose now?