After spending most of yesterday at the vet's office, I was told that Ezra, my little half moon conure, has kidney disease. Birds, of course, do their level best to mask any sign of illness until it is usually too late to save them, and I'm trying hard not to imagine the amount of pain she must have been in to finally reach the point of showing sign of her distress: she plucked her body clean of feathers over the weekend.
She goes back to the vet Friday morning to have her uric acid levels rechecked—they were off the chart yesterday. Until then I have meds to give her twice a day and I'm doing lots of handfeeding to encourage her to eat and drink. She hasn't plucked since she returned home, so I'm encouraged that she must not be in near as much pain, but she's still obviously very weak.
A bang, not a whimper
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