Darwin died very suddenly this morning, December 14, 2017. He was 6 years, 10 months, 9 days old.
Please forgive me for what will undoubtedly be a rambling, miserable post. I have never been so heartbroken in my life. I can’t believe I’m writing this. Thinking about him in the past tense feels surreal. I didn’t expect to be prepared to announce this so soon, and I’m not, really... but I’m certain that if I don’t do it now, I won’t be able to in the future.
He was taken away too soon. Darwin was going to turn 7 in February, and he was supposed to live for many more years. I had this whole big “hatchday” celebration thing planned for when he turned 10.
Ever since he came into my life, whenever I planned my future, Darwin wasn't just in it - he was a key part of it. I made decisions on living situations based on what I thought would be best for him. I planned whole evenings around when I would be able to see him, check up on him, change his food and water, play with him. I bought groceries based on what meals I thought I could make that I could share with him.
He saw me through the last two years of college, into a crappy job in Las Vegas, then on to better workplaces in the legal and nonprofit fields. He saw me through friendships, relationships, fall-outs and breakups, extreme depression and suicidal ideation. He explored the outdoors with me, learned the calls of wild birds, bit anyone and everything when he was feeling any kind of emotion that wasn’t ‘sleepy’. He lived in a way that can only be described as passionately.
He imitated my laugh, my speech patterns, the little silly sounds I made just when I was chattering nonsense with him. He would make the coolest water-dripping noise--it sounded just like the real thing--and he was smart enough to associate it with water and make the noise whenever he saw the stuff.
When I asked, “Give me a kiss?” he’d give me a kiss and make a little squeak. He was always gentle with kisses, even when he was feeling rowdy. He enjoyed imitating the sound of someone talking on speakerphone. He bit toes, chewed on my socks and shoes, stole my cereal, and snuggled into my hair when he got cold or tired. He only wanted to eat seeds--even on fruit and veggies, he’d eat only the parts with seeds--he especially enjoyed tearing apart jalapeno and bellpepper cores, and pulling off the tiny seeds on the surface of strawberries. He loved crunching on popcorn, digging into snap peas, and diving into shallow water basins for baths.
I had a little suction cup perch for him that would stick to mirrors, and he would sit on it and preen while I did my makeup in the mornings. He’d sit in the shower and enjoy the steam while I washed.
When I sang to him, he would get quiet, fluff up, and listen attentively before falling asleep. When I cried, he’d snuggle up to me and kiss my cheeks.
And, of course, he was super photogenic. Darwin gave me the privilege of creating a wonderful online presence for him, where we could not only share fun photos of him but also give advice to curious bird owners across the world.
I never, ever doubted that he loved me. I hope he always knew how much I loved him.
Without Dar, it feels like my whole heart and future have been ripped from me. I don’t know what will happen to this blog, but I won’t delete it. I will likely keep it up as a tribute to his memory.
Thank you all for allowing me to share Darwin with you. It has been such a joy for the past 5 years. I will miss updating you on his adventures. I will miss the messages and the love. Thank you so much for being around to get to know him--and through him, a part of me. He was the most wonderful, special little guy, and I am so glad I got to share him with all of you.
Wishing you all lots of love,
Lexie
(Darwin’s human, forever and always)
