Hope, Humor, & Harry...

I do battle daily with my immune system disease, Chronic Fatigue Immune Dysfunction Syndrome. CFIDS for short. With daily exercise, very good (and expensive) nutritional supplements as well as maintaining a healthy diet, I manage to keep it in check. It's not a fight I can win, but I also won't let it beat me. I do have bad days, and my biggest complaint is that I have very limited energy. It is not difficult to become completely exhausted. Compared to my early years of being sick, however, this is a walk in the park. The most exercise I was capable of in the first 6 months was going from my bed to the sofa, and vice versa. After 6 months I began to vacuum the house once a week for exercise, and doing that exhausted me. Two years later I began walking for exercise starting at less than 1/4 mile. It took me 2 years after I began to get up to 2 and 1/2 miles. It was in those early years that a miracle fell into my life in the form of a little monster that looked like a harmless little bird. I have no idea where Harry came from. He could have flown hundreds of miles or from just down the street. His loud squawking got me off the couch one afternoon when I really did not want to get up at all. I got outside just in time to keep him from being lunch for a neighborhood cat. This little yellow, white, grey, and orange, very ferocious looking cockatiel was an incredible sight to see. I tried to get him to step onto my hand, but he was ready to fight me as well as the cat. I poked a stick at the cat to make him back up. I really had no idea what to do. While I was trying to hold the cat off with the stick, this fierce little bird climbed onto the stick, walked up my arm and onto my shoulder. That's how I became the caretaker and servant of a small parrot.
Harry brought many things into my life, two of which I needed in the worst way, hope and humor. He snuck hope into my life by way of the backdoor, because at that point there wasn't an easy way for hope to enter my life. He brought hope disguised as responsiblity, and lots of laughter. Once Harry was firmly in my life I knew I would have to go on living because there was no one else in the world who would put up with the bad-tempered little monster that he was. I love Harry dearly, but there were times when he could be so vicious it was scary. Mostly, however, he was that way only when someone tried to interfere with something he wanted to do, or he felt threatened.
There are many funny stories about Harry. He loved shoes. He had one pair in particular that he loved, and he would get right up to one of them and whistle away like he was courting it. You never knew what he would become attached to, but once he did, he would protect it with his life against all comers, including myself, or anyone else that would try to come between him and the object of his affection. There was an oven mitt, one of those large padded gloves for removing hot pans from the oven or stove, that he took a shine to. Everytime I opened the dawer it was in, Harry would attack me, and then climb into the drawer with the mitt. One of my favorite stories about Harry happened when he was being his usual aggravating self while I was trying to clean one day, so I locked him in his cage while I finished, which of course he was not happy about. When I was done, I opened the door to his cage, and then began reading the newspaper as I relaxed on the sofa. Harry refused to acknowledge me or come out of his cage. About a half hour later, he climbed down the ladder attached to the door of his cage to the coffee table (he could have flown, but he didn't), and then onto my legs (my feet were up on the coffee table) and walked his way up to my chest, as I was laying down. I had set aside the newspaper and was looking at him. He walked right up to my face and then bit me on the cheek, after which he dashed back down the length of my body onto the coffee table, up the ladder and into his cage. It was impossible for me to be mad. I was too busy laughing hysterically. That was Harry. A truly marvelous being. If there ever was an angel masquerading as a little demon, it was he. He brought light, love, and laughter into my life when I needed it the most.
One of the most difficult trials of my life was taking care of him when he was dying. When the end came, when he could no longer stay on a perch, and was no longer able to eat, even though I knew it was the right thing to do for him, bringing him to the animal hospital to have him put to sleep was the hardest thing I had ever done. I felt completely helpless. I cried not just then, but even now when I think of those last moments, I still cry.
I love Edgar, and always will. But Harry was truly special. I found Edgar. Harry found me. He came into my life when I most needed him, and I believe he knew that I would be ok if he left me at that point in my life. If I listen closely, I can still hear him yelling the way he would when I came home. And boy could he yell. I miss him terribly sometimes. But I believe that one day, I will see him again...