Blue

I've been struggling with how (and when) to announce some very sad news.

About ten weeks ago, when I was working to finish the book, Blue (our canary, who is mentioned in the book) fell ill with what we thought was a respiratory infection. We took him to the vet right away and the doctor put him on medication. As part of her examination, the vet noticed a mass in his abdomen. It turned out to be a tumor, and although little Blue did perk up once on the antibiotics she prescribed, it was clear that he wasn't going to be with us long.

His appetite was good and, although there were days when it was clear he wasn't feeling well, for the most part he was perky and enjoyed playing with his toys and bossing me in the kitchen.

It came to an end on Oct. 21, when he left us. He was quite young, only five years old.

It's been three weeks now, and we still miss him dreadfully. The house has seemed too quiet, even with an eclectus and a large macaw bellowing in the lounge room. He was our smallest avian family member, but was certainly a significant part of the household. There will never be another "Blue". He was one of a kind, and we loved him dearly.

Although we are still mourning for Blue, this past weekend we decided it was time to look at canaries. As I type this, I'm listening to a familiar twitter coming from downstairs and the sound of a pair of canaries bounding from their perch to the bottom of the cage, throwing their weight onto the grate and making it clang (something Blue loved to do, too). Over time these two will assert their personalities, they'll figure out the family routine and they'll have me and Stephen trained to fetch fruit, egg, and fresh greens for them. I know they will be beloved members of the family, just as I know we will never forget our dear Blue.