When we were children and lived at the beach on a quarter acre section, we had lots of guinea pigs. Thirty-six at one time I remember. (We were very proud of that number) Males and females, shorthaired and long haired, all colours. The only ones who went into cages were the pregnant mothers, the rest ran free. My father even built a rock mountain with tunnels running under and through it for them to hide in away from the cats, there were even little rooms for sleeping. We used to put ads in the newspaper and sell the babies. Every morning after breakfast, already dressed in my school uniform, I would take a pot of porridge down the back, bang on the pot with the wooden spoon and call Guinea, Guinea, Guinea! They would erupt at a gallop from where-ever they were hiding and line up to eat, as I ladled the porridge out in a row on the grass.
Our back yard was pretty wild. My mother told us that it was important to keep and breed the animals because as well as learning to take care of animals (which we did) we also learnt about birth and death and it’s natural progression. Needless to say we had a little graveyard behind the swings with named white crosses and everything. My elder brother was in charge of making the crosses, he did a very good job and my little brother provided the shoe boxes for coffins. We sung hymns and said prayers and had quite elaborate little funeral services.
My mother died almost 30 years ago now, when I was a very young mother, but I need to tell her that I have learnt this lesson now and can she please stop teaching me. The Duke of Kupa died last night. I am sorry to be blunt. But I don’t like euphemisms for death especially after we have worked so hard to keep him alive. He did not pass, he is not gone, he died. He was our beautiful bird.
There has been a wee bit of a thaw so I hope the ground is not too frozen, I will bury him down the back with the piglets, Mama’s lambs and White Cat. John is working 12 hour days so I will do this by myself.
And he died with such relief poor fellow. His lungs stopped. The bellows exhaled. He shut his eyes. And his whole body relaxed.
He managed to die under a warm light on a miserable grey day. All very fitting for the day we lose our jewel.
God knows it is hard not to throw myself into a snow bank and say Woe is ME! How could I have missed the signs. But there you are, the milk is spilled. Even a short time with an animal or a friend can be wonderful. Just because he did not live for twenty years does not mean his life was any less complete. He was so beautiful. But there are animals out there who need me on my toes and paying attention.
Ok Mum, let’s get to work with the living now.
I am sorry. I know you loved him too.
Do take care and have a lovely day for Kupa.
your friend
celi
The Kitchen's Garden 
135 responses to “The Duke of Kupa”
i am with you.
Trying to be brave but the tear drops are falling…. rest in peace Duke of Kupa..may your feathers always be as beautiful as ever..
lots of love to you Celi…don, t go throwing yourself in the snow if its frozen..you’ll end up with a broken nose…..xxxxxxx
Like a brilliant, lovely flower, his time on earth was short, but aren’t we glad we got to enjoy his beauty as long as we did? I love the little boy’s observation. We didn’t want him to suffer. It hurts, but Nature knows best. Hugs to you.
I am so, so sorry, Celi! I knew that second I saw the blog title. My heart is sad for you. At the same time I’m glad Kupa is now pain free…and yes I do believe there is more after here. There just has to be…I want to walk with all my furry and feathered friends once more…why not?
Hugs from across the plains and the Rocky Mountains to you!
Linda
http://coloradofarmlife.wordpress.com
So sorry to hear that he did not make it. We get so attached to animals, and as my son would say “He is in bird Heaven.” So sorry.
Bird heaven sounds like such a good place to be.. c
So very sorry to read that Kupa is dead.
I mourn with you. A bright flash of beauty gone.
Tears for Kupa and for you. I was crying already when I read your appeal to your mum to stop teaching you this hard lesson, you’ve learned enough. I’m afraid we never stop learning the lessons of death because every death–whether it’s a beloved animal or a person dear to us–leaves a fresh wound. I’m so thankful for time and memory, the great healers.
Nearly 30 years ago, I sat with my mother the night she died. Her breathing had become shallow and quiet, but I knew immediately when it stopped. Such silence. But such ease, and such relief, too, after all she’d suffered. It was time to let her go.
Last weekend, while we were visiting my son/daughter-in-law and baby grandson, my daughter-in-law’s 17-year-old cat was obviously failing badly. They left the baby with my husband and me and took the beloved cat to the vet. She didn’t come home with them that day. So there was sadness, yes. But there we all were with the miracle of a four-month-old child in our arms.
You will be sad, but don’t blame yourself. As so many have said here, there are others who need you (and we need you, we need your stories, both happy and sad) and for whom you do the very best you know how.
Love and many, many hugs your way–
I so hate to make people cry. But i have to tell it as it happens. And you are so right, beautiful babies in arms or on hips are a wonderful comfort, thank you gerry.. c
Hard to read about Kuppa without tears. V.
It was a hard-fought battle, I’m so sorry it was lost. Kupa was a beautiful bird and you gave him a beautiful life.
So very sorry Celi. XO
I remember the day you came home from the fair with The Duke.
You were so pleased and we all celebrated his arrival ! What a grand addition
he has been on the Farmy, slipping in and out of pictures and conversations
as he reigned ! There will be silence were he was, just as there is when
people die. There will also be memories and pictures and all of us sending thoughts
his way and yours. THANKYOU for taking care of him and bringing him into
our lives.I am glad I got to experience a peacock !! Take care, be gentle with
yourself. It’s the Winter Solstice…..I love this day, for tomorrow brings more light !
Nanster
So sorry, Miss C. Even your photos today are less colourful with the loss of beautiful Kupa.
Oh heck I can see I have a LOT of catching up to do around here. Trust me the first day back in blogland and you are thinking of throwing yourself in the snow. I just hope you are dressed for the occasion! C x
Rest in peace, beautiful Duke of Kupa. I am so sorry to hear this, Celi.