Today, two parrots we had died.  Blue one, cowardly yet cheerful old male with endless appetite, died even before I got up.  That one was my favorite.  White one, feisty angry young female with tendency to destroy more food than consume, died about 11PM with both my wife and I watching.  We think the food we gave them last night was bad.

I never named the birds, just enjoyed watching them.  Blue one would scream for food and, when I give them, scream to complain that the white one took his food.  White one ate only a little but spent a lot of time throwing food out.  Blue one spent most of the day running away from the white one but would spend about ten minutes hopping around mad at the white one.  During those ten minutes, the white one just flew to a corner and waited for the blue one's temper to end.

Blue one would also demand to be let out once a day and when we do, flew around the house for half an hour and then demanded to be let in.  The white one would peep nervously whenever the blue one went out to fly.  It was peeping all day today, asking the blue one to fly back home.  I stayed my home office mostly to avoid hearing her sad little peeps.

Where does the stone come in?  The stone is in my heart.  I am not really sad.  My wife is.  She cried even.  I cried when my dog died but no tears came this time.  My heart just feels heavy, as if it's weighted down with a stone.