I'm back... but with sad news!

After taking some 'hibernation' time, now I'm back... but not without some bad news. Before I go on, I would like thank each and every one of you readers out there for giving me support and persuading me to continue writing. I must say, after what took place, it's not an easy thing to do.

Somewhere in April, for as long as three memorable months living with me, Spunky escaped through the window and never came back. Never came back to me, never came back to my life.

Below are some excerpts from my diary:

Today is one of the saddest days of my life. I never thought it would happen - not even once - and even at this hour, I desperately wish to God that this is all just a nightmare. A very big nightmare. That tomorrow, when I wake up early in the morning to check him out and feed him breakfast, he was there... in his cage.

Oh, Diary! How can I tell you how heart-broken I am right now, to know that Spunky has escaped and gone away, and that I'm never going to see him again? How can I tell you that I can never, ever forgive myself for leaving him - and Sun-Ray and the white-faced cockatiel - in my room unsupervised? All I wanted to do was having a breakfast after folding a basket of clothes, and the next thing I knew, as Billa said, Spunky was outside of the bedroom window. He had slipped into the tiniest open space and flew away.

Frantically, I stopped eating breakfast halfway and went to the backyard, looking up to my bedroom. He was nowhere in sight. Billa and I searched for him in the surrounding area, and later, Dad joined us. About half an hour, I was already so despressed and broke down and cry.

... I was helpless, almost resigning myself to the fact that I could never have him back. I lied at the bed, crying and crying. I know I shouldn't have given up so soon, but when it comes to birds escaping, I'm pretty pessimistic. Almost a year ago, Syam's African grey named Sam flew out of the window and was never found again. Spunky, being a pet bird who had never seen the outside world, would've definitely perceived everything as daunting. And he was only 4 months old; he was such a baby. How would he survive? How would he eat? How would he sleep tonight, if he were still alive?

It was only within an hour ago that I had played with him while folding the clothes...

Within 45 minutes, Billa and Mum returned. Billa darted into the room and said that they heard Spunky's loud shrills. She urged me to get up and look for her. Both of us rushed downstairs and outside of the house, crossed the road and walked around the neighbourhood. We passed by trees, and all the while, I was calling him, "Spunky... Spunky-boy... Spunky..."

Spunky screamed, and I tried to locate where his voice came from. I looked up the big tree in front fo me, and there he was... perched up high in one of the tallest branches. I called his name again, and he responded. Only that he was so afraid that he didn't know where I was and how to get to where I was. He was looking here and there, searching for the sight of me. Billa suggested me to get something to lure him with. I thought of a bowl and a spoon, because the sounds emitted from those two items were very familiar to him because sometimes I would stir the formula in front of him. Still, Spunky was clueless of what to do. He started to see us, but he only hopped from one branch to the other. In desperation, I asked Amil to climb the tree. He said he wouldn't, because the tree was very tall and big. I almost got angry at him right there and then for being such a coward, but I reasoned myself that it would be no good to put anyone in danger.

We kept calling him, only to know that he didn't know how to get down and perched higher. No sooner, Dad came around and called him, "Baby... baby..." He asked Amil to bring a ladder from our home, because he said he'd climb the tree. Amil did, but when he got there, he offered to climb, instead. My brother climbed as far as he could, but still couldn't reach to where Spunky was. Dad asked him to shake the branch he perched on and Billa asked him to throw some small fruits of the tree, so that he'd fly to where we could grab him. But it was a futile effort, as Spunky only flew further. I asked Amil to stop, but he and Billa persisted. Billa reasoned that Spunky would get down. I couldn't say anything.

One last shot of the small fruit, and Spunky flew away ever so quickly that we couldn't trace him anymore. All of us thought we knew where his direction was, but he couldn't be found at the spot we thought he'd be. We didn't know what to say to each other. Dad went home to continue painting the master bedroom, asking me and Billa and Amil to look around. So, when the sun was rising above us at noon, off we went to search for him at three neighbourhood passageways. When we took a rest, I sadly said to Amil, "That was a poor strategy..."

Billa said there was no use bringing up things done. I agreed, but I so wanted to tell them that if only they had listened to me. Even if Spunky was out of our grasp, he was still within our sight. Now... he was gone. He didn't make any more noise. And it was more dangerous.

Everything was so exhausting to me that about 4 o'clock, I didn't have the enthusiasm to do anything and I searched for solace in the bed. I cried again. I blamed myself for everything. I prayed to God for a miracle, for Him to guide Spunky home and that the next morning when I opened the door, he was in front of the gate. I, again, wished that this all wouldn't have happened to me. The pain was too much for me to bear that I closed my eyes, wanting so much to shut the world out and to sleep and waking up to learn that everything would be like it used to.

But the fact is, what is happening to me is very real. When I awoke about an hour later to Billa's phone conversation to her boyfriend about my missing baby, I opened my eyes when she had hung up the phone. As she had told her boyfriend, she and Dad went to search for Spunky more by the car while I was asleep. They went around and around the neighbourhood, but Spunky wasn't making any noise, so it was hard.

About 15 minutes later, I got on my feet. I didn't want to cry anymore. I wanted to take a bath and get ready and look for him. I walked in and out of the resident passages, walking in a slow pace, hoping to hear his screams and looking up at every tree. I wanted to tell everyone I saw that I had lost a beloved pet, and had they seen it? I wanted to scream to the wild birds to shut up and if only I could communicate with them, I'd want them to find my missing baby. Had they seen him?

I passed by many houses with pets and their homes, and silently told myself that I'd taken care of Spunky much better than those owners care for their animals. Look at the houses! They're dirty and filthy and not well-kept. I cleaned Spunky's cages everyday, and even at the age of four months old, I still pampered him by hand-feeding him. What did I do to deserve this?

I surrendered after walking for awhile. Before I left home to look for him, I prayed to God that this would just be an episode of living with Spunky; not an ending. But after while, Maybe I'm beginning to surrender to the fact that I'll never see him again...

Photo: One of the few treasured pictures I have of this sweet little guy...

The incident was one of the saddest things that has ever happened to me, and things were never the same without my baby bird. As for Sun-Ray, she's a fine 'tiel. As much as she seemed to be annoyed with Spunky, sometimes I sense that she's lonely without that little sun conure. Sometimes I feel that she's wondering where The Little Greeny is.

Another sad news is, J.L. Lemone is dead. If you notice, there's a link of his blog at the sidebar of my blog. I was an avid follower of his amusing entries, although I seldom left comments. He was an entertaining cockatiel to live with, I'm sure, and my condolences go to his caregiver - The Tall One - and his partner - Miss Prissy.

After quite a long time, now I'm back to writing. I love to write. I love animals. I especially love writing about my love for animals, and so I'm here. I'm here to continue what I love doing most.