In Memory of Budso and Yogi

Budso - January, 1995 - March 5, 1996

Yogi - 1990 or 1991 - April 2003

Budso was my first whitefaced cockatiel. I bought him in May, 1995 at a bird fair. He caught my eye, and I very quickly fell in love with him. He gave the most awesome kisses. He spent much time with me when I was on the computer. He would explore the computer desk, and would try to catch my fingers as I typed to chew my nails.

Budso fell in love with Yogi, my pearly pied cockatiel. She had never bonded with a male before. She had mated with Stubby and then Mr. Suzy, Stubby's son, and raised babies all alone. Well, soon Budso was mature and they started a family.

On March 5 I noticed that Budso was favoring his one wing. I discovered broken blood feathers, and tried to removed the ends of them. He started to bleed from the feather follicle, and suddenly went into shock as I applied pressure on his wing to stop the bleeding. He died in my hands. I missed my little buddy and I know that Yogi did also. She busily raised 2 little babies all by herself for a week, and then got ill. In a few weeks she was feeling much better, and was begging Stubby and his son Mr. Suzy to mate with her.

In December 1996 I bought Charlie, another whitefaced cockatiel. Yogi fell in love with him. They had some clutches of babies, but Charlie plucked Yogi, so I separated them.

Yoshi, one of Yogi and Charlie's sons, became very attached to Yogi. She had many health crises between 1996 and when she died in April 2004. Yoshi was her constant companion, and though they were son and mother, they were bonded. They had no babies but they were constantly together.

Yogi used to come to spend time with me while I was on the computer. She used to come sit on me for preening, but as she became ill she stopped wanting that. I missed those times. As she had the health crises she became unable to fly and was affected neurologically. She had no real bouts after 2001, but she couldn't fly, and when she dropped to the floor from the cage, she would roll in a ball, get up and walk where she needed to go.

One evening in April 2003 I walked through the living room and saw Yogi walking on the floor near the flight cages. She liked to find cubby holes, and I had a waste basket turned on its side in my bedroom and she and Yoshi would come spend time there in their little hidey hole.

That April evening I went back into the living room about 1/2 hour after I last saw Yogi, and found her in the same spot on her back, her wings outspread like she had been flying, and as if she had flown over the rainbow bridge. I miss her, but am thankful she went quickly with no suffering. Rest in peace my sweet little "Yogi and Budmeister".