Sharon
08-03-2005, 10:19 PM
I guess it's time to explain Eephus's death.
Some of you may know that Eephus started plucking last summer. Trusting my vet of 8 years, I allowed him to give him accupuncture, which actually helped, but only for 2 weeks at a time. After 5 treatments and after asking Doc several times "shouldn't you do some bloodwork?" we decided to find a different vet. 6 months after he started plucking, we found out he had a severe GI infection, along with some active yeast. After treating that, our new vet moved to Nevada, and since the plucking hadn't stopped - the search was on again. The new vet wanted to try Haloperidol (Haldol) - an anti-psychotic drug. So, we went along with it and in many ways, it was great. Eephus was a problem child, a screamer, and sometimes aggressive - and it calmed him down some along with stopping the plucking. But, one of the very first "side effects" that showed up was: he hated being in his cage. He pushed out the bottom grate, got in the bottom tray and CRASH went the skirting. Fastened it down, and he started on the door. Rattled that sucker up and down in it's frame and shook the whole house, all the while making this indescribably horrible screaming/moaning noise. It got to the point where he slept perched on the open cage door and was only in his cage when no one was home. Greg fixed the door so he couldn't move it up and down, and he started coming out the feeder doors. Crappy cage, flimsy doors (you know, the ones with that little circle holding the top corner closed?) and we knew - we knew - something had to be done. But, we waited too long.
I left July 3rd to spend a few days at my mom's and go to Cedar Point with my niece.
Greg came home from work the afternoon of the 5th, and found Eephus stuck in the breeder-box door (same as the feeder doors, just a bit larger) He had pushed the bottom corner out far enough to get his head through ... and that was as far as he got. It closed on his neck - we can only hope it was quick. It's so hard to think about what that poor little boy may have went thru - it just makes my stomach turn.
It took all of Greg's strength to push that corner out just a little bit - so how in the world Eephus had the strength to get his head out of there is beyond us. But, drugs do strange things to people, let alone a birdie, so who knows what he was thinking or feeling. I kept saying that I couldn't wait till it was time to get him off that drug, couldn't wait to have my baby boy back. It seems so unfair that I never got him back. And so unfair that he died such a horrible death. We loved him dearly, I just hope we made him happy for the last couple years of his life.
He never was crazy about his cage, but never ever tried to escape it until after he was on that drug. I'd much rather have a plucking, half-bald Eephus than have him buried in my rose garden. I've always hated drugs - and will never go that route again for any of my animals. Antibiotics etc. are one thing - but something like Haldol .... never again.
Talk about learning things the hard way. This will haunt me for the rest of my life.
Some of you may know that Eephus started plucking last summer. Trusting my vet of 8 years, I allowed him to give him accupuncture, which actually helped, but only for 2 weeks at a time. After 5 treatments and after asking Doc several times "shouldn't you do some bloodwork?" we decided to find a different vet. 6 months after he started plucking, we found out he had a severe GI infection, along with some active yeast. After treating that, our new vet moved to Nevada, and since the plucking hadn't stopped - the search was on again. The new vet wanted to try Haloperidol (Haldol) - an anti-psychotic drug. So, we went along with it and in many ways, it was great. Eephus was a problem child, a screamer, and sometimes aggressive - and it calmed him down some along with stopping the plucking. But, one of the very first "side effects" that showed up was: he hated being in his cage. He pushed out the bottom grate, got in the bottom tray and CRASH went the skirting. Fastened it down, and he started on the door. Rattled that sucker up and down in it's frame and shook the whole house, all the while making this indescribably horrible screaming/moaning noise. It got to the point where he slept perched on the open cage door and was only in his cage when no one was home. Greg fixed the door so he couldn't move it up and down, and he started coming out the feeder doors. Crappy cage, flimsy doors (you know, the ones with that little circle holding the top corner closed?) and we knew - we knew - something had to be done. But, we waited too long.
I left July 3rd to spend a few days at my mom's and go to Cedar Point with my niece.
Greg came home from work the afternoon of the 5th, and found Eephus stuck in the breeder-box door (same as the feeder doors, just a bit larger) He had pushed the bottom corner out far enough to get his head through ... and that was as far as he got. It closed on his neck - we can only hope it was quick. It's so hard to think about what that poor little boy may have went thru - it just makes my stomach turn.
It took all of Greg's strength to push that corner out just a little bit - so how in the world Eephus had the strength to get his head out of there is beyond us. But, drugs do strange things to people, let alone a birdie, so who knows what he was thinking or feeling. I kept saying that I couldn't wait till it was time to get him off that drug, couldn't wait to have my baby boy back. It seems so unfair that I never got him back. And so unfair that he died such a horrible death. We loved him dearly, I just hope we made him happy for the last couple years of his life.
He never was crazy about his cage, but never ever tried to escape it until after he was on that drug. I'd much rather have a plucking, half-bald Eephus than have him buried in my rose garden. I've always hated drugs - and will never go that route again for any of my animals. Antibiotics etc. are one thing - but something like Haldol .... never again.
Talk about learning things the hard way. This will haunt me for the rest of my life.