So this morning I woke up to find one of my treasured little parakeets dead. It was my darling little solid white one. I named her Betty White, hee hee. I know some people will laugh at me, but I am feeling extremely upset and depressed. Perhaps I treasure my pets a little too much, but it always hurts so bad to lose one of them. I think part of it is the fact that pets were always seen as disposible in our household growing up. As soon as we would get attached to them, off to the pound they went! My parents never saw them as members of the family. More like temporary decoration.
Sorry if this post seems silly, I just needed to vent
It's a depressing start to the day. I wish I had a garden where I could bury her, but I am in an apartment.