Death of a pet continued.....

Beaky meant the world to our family, especially Mum. But, on account of the title of this blog, there's no prizes for guessing where this story is going.

One day, Dad came home from work to an empty house. Mum was in town shopping for groceries. Dad went about his business, walking down to the paddock to feed the animals. He laid hay out for the cows, gave rolled oats to the ponies and donkeys and pellets to the goats. His last job was scattering grain on the ground for the chooks. They all gathered around his feet, stomachs growling and chests puffed out, eagerly awaiting the shower of grains. All but one chook. Beaky.

Dad didn't take too much notice. Sometimes Beaky would just wait up at the house where it was warmer and hope to get some of the leftovers. Dad finished the feeding frenzy and walked up to the house to look for the missing Beaky.

He walked inside, and there he was. Sitting in the middle of the hallway. Dad didn't realise he was dead at first. It was an easy mistake to make. Beaky had simply tucked his wings in tight, sat down on his haunches, closed his eyes and died. Dad stood there and looked at him for a moment. For a brief moment, Dad was pretty upset. Then he was suddenly struck by the fact that Beaky just looked so incredibly peaceful just sitting there. He couldn't believe that this little bird looked so cute. There was no need to be upset, he'd made the decision to go himself.

'Trish has to see this,' Dad thought to himself. Then not really thinking too much at all, he scooped little stiff zen-like Beaky up and popped him in the freezer. 'I'll preserve you! Trish won't be so upset if she sees how peaceful you were when you died'. Dad though it was genius.

But Dad's not a genius. He's forgetful. And he forgot about putting Beaky in the freezer for 2 days!

It was almost three nights later, when we'd all finished dinner and Mum asked if we wanted dessert. That's when Dad remembered. Unfortunately it was a moment too late. Mum swung the freezer door open and screamed.

'Beaky, Beaky, oh little Beaky!'

'Oh, yeah.... umm Trish, I...'

Dad had put him in there to make Mum feel better, but he knew it was too late now. She was quickly beyond feeling good. I think she was in too much shock to feel anything. She stared at Beaky for awhile, and then cried. Beaky looked still looked gorgeous after 2 days perched like a little budda on the frozen fish fingers, beak crossed and eye closed shut. Dad didn't need to say anything, Mum knew Beaky had gone peacefully. Mum reached into the freezer, lifted him up. I thought she was going to take him out, but she went for the choc-chip icecream instead.

We all sat down around the kitchen bench and ate our icecream in silence. Mum was ok, I guess. I mean, she looked like an depressed, overweight, binge-eating teenager, the way she was eating icecream and sobbing into her bowl at the same time. But she got over it.

Beaky had had a great life, and we all knew it. That was the most important thing to Mum. That's always been the most important thing to us. As a family, we've lost a lot of animals along the way - and considering Mum has a menagerie, we'll lose a lot more.

But no matter how many times you part with a pet, it doesn't get any easier. They are our little friends, we spend so much time with them and love them with all our hearts. And when they are gone they leave a big hole in your chest. A hole that's filled with grief, but also hopefully a little bit of knowing that we gave them the best chance we could.

I miss you Beaky, Bimbo, Bruce, Ozzie, Missy, Misty, Becky, Heidi, Kevin, Cooper, Pig-Pig, Rosie and Santa.

And most of all, I miss you Gus.