Pimon is on the floor of his cage again. The birds had scrambled in the larger cage a few minutes ago. I found him struggling on his swing. He barely had enough strength to move his wing out of the way as he turned around. I had straddled my right hand upon him but he wouldn’t budge. His eyes were closed and his long nails clung to the swing. I had to pry him off and hold him for awhile and brought him to Maw to say goodbye. His breast bone is very bony. I know it’s time. Maw claimed that she saw him eating and drinking. He is pretending to peck on food but doesn’t swallow. I will miss him. But he is still trying to live.
Hello Flynn, nice, and good luck!
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