Hello everybody, Percy here.
Mummy asked me if one of the others should blog today, but I’m feeling a little better, so I said I’d do it. I want to talk about Midge of course. I felt terrible all Friday and Saturday, but Mummy explained it was all right to grieve for someone, and when that someone was Midge, he was bound to leave a big hole in our lives. I smiled at that, because really, Midge was very large!
I met Midge when I arrived here in 2015. He’d already been here a year then. He arrived with his brother Oscar from Auntie Vikki’s home, in the October of 2014. I was surprised at that because he wasn’t living with Oscar then. They fell out before it even got to their first Christmas. I have no idea why. Midge was a very agreeable chap, and although Oscar could be a bit stand-offish, he was okay, really. We got on okay, anyway. I suppose that was the long and the short of it. They got on with everybody except each other. I don’t understand it, but it’s true.
Midge and I got together after Kevin died. Kevin lived next door to Midge for a bit, and I’d moved into his cage when Colman died. I think that was how it worked, anyway. It gets confusing. We call it ‘chase the cage’ and see who gets which one whenever a large or more desirable one becomes empty. Anyway, Midge and I got on well most of the time.
Recently we’d been bickering a bit. I don’t know who started it, but I think Midge was just touchy about things. You know, a simple thing would make him flare up and tell me off. Mummy says now that maybe that was the start of his illness, but we didn’t realise it. I know she took him to see Dr Sally with me a couple of times, but Dr Sally couldn’t find anything obviously wrong, and Mummy couldn’t give her any definite symptoms. But Midge responded to some metacam, so he was obviously in a little pain. He liked any sort of medicine after that. Mummy shared an artheritis tablet between us in the evening. He liked that. So do I.
We liked it even more on Monday, when we got out into the garden for the first time this year. Mmm, fresh grass. Mummy took some photos of everyone, but all you can see of Midge and me is our backs as we lounge in some lovely long grass in the shade.
But on Thursday, after Mummy went out to her bird club, Midge staggered around the cage and said he didn’t feel well. Then he fell onto his side and started kicking. It was very frightening for me, I can tell you. I went to see if he was okay, and of course he wasn’t. He was very frightened too. I couldn’t help him back onto his feet and he couldn’t get up, and I could see he wasn’t really hearing anything I was saying to him either.
Then Mummy came home, took one look at him, picked him up and cuddled him on her lap for a little while, and gave him some medicine. Then she phoned the vet and talked to Dr Louise. I could hear what she was saying, but it wasn’t very helpful. She asked what diazapan was, and said she didn’t have anything like that. Said ‘yes’ and ‘I see’ a few times, then stopped talking and put the phone down. Then she took Midge downstairs, sorted out our hay and cucumber, and said good night to us. Oh, yes, she told me not to worry about Midge, she was going to sit up with him all night, but he might go across the Rainbow Bridge.
Well, I think I thought he might, so I went to bed and tried to sleep. I think Mummy stayed awake most of the night. She had the radio on downstairs. There was nice peaceful music playing. Then in the morning she brought Midge up to sit in the carry box while she sorted out our cuddles and breakfast. He seemed to be sleeping then, but when I came up from floor time he was shaking again. So Mummy took him to the vets, but by the time she got there he’d gone over the Rainbow Bridge.
She brought him home and gave us each time to sit with him and say our goodbyes.
And since then I’ve been sitting in the corner with a piece of paper we were playing with. It still smells of him. So does the tunnel. I like that. Mummy washed his bed because he died in it and she said I wouldn’t like that smell. I think she’s right.
I want to remember Midge like the lovely cuddly chap he was, before he got grumpy, which now we know was his illness talking. He was such a nice companion, and I really enjoyed chatting with him and snuggling up together when we needed a bit of support. He was ever so kind about my lump. Mummy says he may have had a lump on his brain that we couldn’t see. I’m sorry we couldn’t see it, Midge. I hope you’re feeling better now, and I’ll see you again when I come over the Rainbow Bridge.
love from Percy.