Well. Things were good for a bit. About 2 days to be exact. I had worked things out a little, and things looked up. I'd dusted off my clothes, wiped the sweat from my brow and the blood from my nose, and then I get a call at work today; an emergency, I was told. My bird was bleeding badly and we had to rush to the vet.
Long story short, she had difficulty laying an egg that essentially tore up her reproductive tract. The vet gave us an estimate: $630 - $1080 for surgery that might and, indeed, probably would not even work.
Let it be known that I hate suffering, especially in animals, especially in birds. Over the course of six years, this bird only ever came to me. Only let me hold her. She was mine and wanted to be. I feel I made the best choice; I would never watch her suffer. Now, there's an empty corner in my living room. A little piece of me is buried in the back yard.
This summer has fucked with my head. There aren't too many words to describe it. "Roller coaster" doesn't quite convey what it's been like. If what doesn't kill you truly makes you stronger, I should be a beast by now.
You know what though? This summer may have disgraced, ruined, and nearly killed me, but I'm not going to be kept down. I'm going to take every ounce of learning and wisdom from this bitch of a season and put it to use. Even if it somehow gets worse, I'll know that I hit the floor swinging and get up again.
"Up against the wall
Snipers on the roof
Thought I was a gonner, baby.
I'm bulletproof"
(Bulletproof - A3)
I wish it weren't so late. I could use a good run right now.
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