Parrots don’t just lose a mate—they lose a piece of their soul. Grief hits them just like it hits us. What many don’t realize is how deeply these birds bond. To us, they may be small and feathered, but their hearts are vast—and when a bonded companion is suddenly gone, the silence left behind can be deafening. They may sit in the corner of their cage, calling for someone who won’t answer. Refuse food. Pluck feathers. Grow quiet. Some wait. Some break. Grief in parrots is not just real, it’s raw, visible, and heartbreaking. As caretakers, it’s our job to hold space for that loss. To offer presence, patience, and peace. To watch over the one left behind and remind them, day by day, that they are not alone. Mourning is universal. ❤️ #petloss #petlossgrief #rainbowbridge
Spitfire was adopted in 2018 from the Humane Society, but based on her leg band, she was born in 2007. She lived a long life—first with what I believe were at least two homes before me. She earned her name for her fierce fighting spirit. When she arrived, her health wasn’t the best, but we worked hard together to get her back to where she needed to be. She bonded with me deeply—until she met her mate and lesbian lover, Pinto Bean, who she now leaves behind. She passed peacefully about two hours ago, and I was lucky to be with her in her final moments. I don’t know what made me pick her up—she wasn’t showing any signs of distress. She was just watching me from her perch like she always did. But something in her eyes told me she needed me. So, I held her close to my chest for a few quiet minutes, and then she was gone. You were an incredible little bean—my girl, my Spitfire. Thank you for finding your way to me. I love you, and I’ll take care of Pinto Bean—she’ll be safe and loved, always. Fly high.