I was grilling on the deck and popped in to say hello to “Pete” who had been chirping up a storm a few hours ago. Initially, I didn’t see him and then made the discovery. I am not one to really beat around the bush so I called down and let her know that Pete had died–not really knowing what to expect this time.
She was quiet but sad. Her bother and sister made fun of her for her lack of reaciton. We found a nice box and prepared the coffin and buried him in the garden out front.
What is discouraging is that he was very healthy and active and only 2 years old. She talked with him, played with him and cleaned his cage pretty darned regularly. The water trough was full as was the seed trough. All of the internet searches say they live 12 to 20 years, so I can’t help but wonder if we did something wrong.
I suppose it is always a good lesson to learn, as we have an cat that is approaching 12 right now. But still a sad day for our house. Goodbye Pete.