Billy's story

Billy is the instigator of the search notices, he is the reason being for this website. If I delayed writing his story, it is because I am still very emotional when I talk about him; I had to write his story in several stages but I had to do it. If I can help prevent such tragedies through this story, I will have achieved my goal.

Billy is a little Jardine parrot that I took in when he was forgotten at the bottom of a cage placed directly on the ground, without any toys, in a pet store whose name I will keep silent, but where I will never set feet again for obvious reasons. He immediately caught my heart! A very strong bond was formed between us. My Quaker Paco, who was so to speak my only parrot, was very jealous when he arrived, but Billy was so irresistible that Paco had no choice but to succumb to his charm too. They slowly got to know each other and wherever Paco went, Billy followed him; they had become inseparable.

In the summer of 2008, we left (the birds, the dog and us) in a motorhome to take a well-deserved vacation. I bought travel cages for them, installed a play area inside the motorhome and also got myself a mosquito net tent to protect them from mosquitoes when they were in their cages outside; briefly, all preventive measures had been taken, or at least that's what I believed. We had toured New Brunswick with Paco, so we knew what to expect. For Billy, it was the first trip of this kind, but little did I know that it would unfortunately be his last and mine as well. Here is his story:

My bird flew away (July 8, 2008)

After five days at the Ivy Lea campsite in Landsdowne, Ontario, with the little family, the vacation was well underway and everything was going wonderfully. Since our arrival, the temperature has been ideal, neither too hot nor too cold; the birds were enjoying the fresh air, well protected in their travel cage in the mosquito net shelter, as shown in this photo:

On July 8, 2008, everything changed. It was the first day of the heatwave, and it was frankly too hot to take the birds outside. Paco and Billy were often free inside the motorhome; They were too busy watching our actions through the side window to think about breaking anything. We could hear them chatting through the screen door. At the same time, we had a good idea of what they were up to and where they were. But that day, given the oppressive heat, I had set the air conditioning to the lowest setting so that it would be comfortable for them. So I had to latch the main door onto the screen door and at the same time could no longer see where they were.

At one point I had to go get water for my dog. So I opened the door just a little to see where the birds were. In doing so, I probably startled Billy, who squeezed through the opening of barely 5 centimeters. I watched him leave helplessly; he flew up so high that in barely 10 seconds I had lost sight of him. I immediately called friends who were staying at the same campsite as us for help. My friend Carole, who Billy knew, called me back 15 minutes later to tell me that she was in the middle of a discussion with him. He was on the top of a century-old tree facing the motorhome, about 250 meters from us. I ran over with his travel cage. Billy was at ease, saying hello to us and whistling his most beautiful songs to us, but it was impossible to get him to come back down...then three crows chased him and he disappeared again. We surveyed the site several times without success. That night it was very cold and it rained torrentially. I didn't sleep a wink all night. I seemed to hear him sreaming through the storm and I had to cry all the tears in my body.

At dawn, at the first birdsong, I was outside looking for Billy, coffee and peanuts in hand. All the vacationers were still asleep so I was discreet by calling his name, and I walked looking on the ground and in the trees. Arriving near a dead tree, I saw a bird at the top; with my heart racing, I called Billy… it was him! He recognized me, immediately and tried to fly back towards me, but there was no clearing in the woods. He made three large circles above me while uttering cries of despair and then, unable to come down and exhausted, he took off in another direction. I looked for him and walked I don't know how many miles to return empty-handed to my site. A good friend of ours, Jean-Charles, called me from Vaudreuil to find out how our vacation was going; he immediately sensed my distress and offered to make a poster to fax to me at the campsite. I went to the entrance to receive it and when I returned, I had to sit down a bit because my feet were on fire; that's when Billy came out of the forest behind the motorhome. Paco called out in recognition because he knew it was him. Then, Billy headed towards the alley that led to the entrance. I ran behind with all my strength to catch up with him, screaming his name, he turned around while flying and that's the last image I have of him. I'm still so mad at myself for opening that damn door!

I couldn't bring myself to leave the site and didn't want to move the motorhome because it was Billy's point of reference, who was sticking around. So we stayed three more weeks to put up posters everywhere, go door to door, alert radio stations, local newspapers, veterinarians, pet stores, the animal protection society, the police and customs officers. A radio station even organized a hunt with the help of its listeners, but without success. All our days were spent looking for Billy or anything that could help us find him. With each phone call, my heart stopped, and hope was reborn to give place to disappointment. We made rounds in the rubber dinghy every day because we were on one of the islands in the Thousand Islands region. We knew a lot of boaters who were on vacation; they put posters of Billy everywhere, even on nearby islands that were only accessible by boat. Briefly, Billy was without a doubt the most famous parrot in Ontario.

After three weeks of intensive search without any serious leads, we had to regretfully resign ourselves to leaving the place. For me, it felt like I was abandoning him to his fate and a part of me stayed there with him. Back home, Paco's first instinct was to fly to the basement to see if Billy was there; of course his cage was empty, it broke his heart and mine too! I will always be searching for him. I hope that one day a veterinarian will detect his ISO chip and call me to say: We have your bird, Madam! I have the right to dream and hope, don't I?

This photo was taken the day before he flew away while I was preparing a little warm pâté before bed.

After this tragic event, I lost interest in the motorhome and we sold it. I will never fully recover from this ordeal. His cries of despair will echo in my memories for a long time to come. Not a day goes by without me thinking about him…I miss him so much! It was while searching for Billy that I came to set up a database containing hundreds of search notices which gave birth to the creation of Perroquetsecours. Know that if it was ever yours that flew away, you will find an ally and an essential tool in Perroquetsecours, as well as a team of volunteers who are passionate about birds of course, but above all dedicated to our cause.

For me, loving a bird means leaving him his full wings and unfortunately risking that he might fly away one day. Always be very vigilant with your birds: it doesn't just happen to others and I am living proof of that. When a bird is afraid, his instinct is to fly away, even if it is far from you, the person he loves the most in the world. A parrot on your shoulder is very pretty, you might say! He's used to it, he loves you, he will never fly away and what's more, he has clipped wings. Believing that a bird with clipped wings cannot fly gives you a false sense of security: a gust of wind is enough to carry him far away and returning can sometimes seem perilous for him, even impossible. My Billy would not have survived three days in this hostile environment if he had had his wings clipped, I am convinced of it! The safest ways to enjoy the outdoors with your bird are undoubtedly a harness and a carrier.

By reading this story, you will understand that we are committed to raising awareness among veterinarians to encourage them to check for the presence of a microchip in any animal examined for the first time; This is the only hope I have left of finding my bird.

We'll see you again Billy! One day we will be together again!