I came home late yesterday to discover my pet budgie has passed away. I had pulled the cover back and saw its body at the bottom of the cage and I screamed. I don't really understand why- it was just a little bird- but afterwards I was horribly upset at the whole thing.

The reason for his death could have been one of many things- Before I caught pneumonia I had changed the gravel to a different brand- I bit cheaper. Also, winter has settled in and the drafts in my office were leaking in. The last culprit was my cat Scoot who a week ago I had found almost sitting on the cage and the bird freaking out. The biggest reason for why I figure the bird died was because it's Christmas time and my 40hr a week job has turned into my 50-60hr a week job. I simply wasn't home to pick up on the little hints here and there that he was unhappy.

I haven't taken the cage down yet. I spent my whole day moping around the apartment and cheaply tried to impress myself with buying over $150 worth of books on store credit at recycled reading. I picked up every single Varley science fiction paperback and The Giving Tree. I have yet to look at them. Instead I wasted my time playing Harvest Moon which is perfect for absorbing my focus to nothing in particular.

Scoot- my cat- won't even come into the office where the bird would sing. We put the body in a box and I am waiting for a warmer day to dig a small hole to put him in. I figure the cat must have attacked the bird in my absence and caught some bacteria from her. Most stories of budgies meeting cats end up this way.

I tried my best to avoid phone calls and the general public though each time my phone rang I answered with a grouchy voice and someone even hung up on me. I quickly called them back and said I was sorry, but I still feel bad.

I know it was just a dumb bird. Though part of me feel horrible for what happened.