I was packing my lunch last night for class; the pantry door is right next to your cage.
It's so easy for the door to swing open and hit the wall near your cage... And last night was the first time I did something intended for you in months.
The door swung-- per usual-- and I stopped it, before it had a chance to bolt you awake.
But then it hit me that you weren't there...
A fit of denial flashed across my mind, and I had to turn the corner to make sure I wouldn't hear your feet scuttle along your sand paper-covered perch to greet my face.
I didn't hear anything. No tweets, no walking... I saw no happy head bobs. Just a bare, gray, cage.
My heart sank. I'll forever be haunted by your frantic death in my hands.
I'll always have days where you float into my life and make me feel everything from joy to sorrow, and I appreciate it all. Even the pain that this brought me.
It reminds me that you've meant the world to me, and will never leave me. Even after death.
R.I.P. Zoey: 8. 9. 2003 - 1. 4. 2014
