Dear Samba,

I’m sorry I will no longer be able to feed you walnuts to cheer you or scratch your itchy head myself. Listen to you bird purr as you eat popcorn or feel you rubbing on my towel after a shower. Sing to music or scream like a little girl at a random airplane you took issue with. Feel you melt your downy form against my lap in shaky puddle as I scratch in just the right spot. Feel my face tingling in delight as you accidentally miss rubbing your body on my shirt just to rub against my face instead. Hear you echo your beeps in the shower as you enjoy both your own voice and the humidity. Watch you take a chaotic bath in your water bowl or shred balsa until only chunks remain. I will miss giving you everything you love and being there for it all.

I apologize that I cannot care for you myself and my caregiver no longer can. That I physically cannot give you new food or clean your cage. Give you clean water that you will probably just dunk your food in anyway. Carry you around the house or help trim your nails. I wish I could have been the one to act out the care you deserve.

I grieve knowing that you will call for us with your upbeat whistle after you are dropped off at the rescue. A call left unanswered. Knowing you might cry our loss the way you did for the mate you had in your previous house. Knowing you might think we never cared at all.

I pray that you get exactly what you need. That your new owner is knowledgeable of what bird care requires. That you are doted on until the memories of us no longer compare. That you live many happy years full of love. That no medical problems befall you or accidents needing treatment. I pray that our sacrifice was the right one. I pray that you remember me fondly.

Love, Nicole