Up until she was maybe 80 or so my grandma always had parakeets. Many different ones over the years but always just two of them at a time. Anyways when I was around 10 I was at her house and I was bored so I was looking at the birds and rubbing my fingers back and forth over the cage grating when one of them bit my finger. It wasn't that hard, didn't draw blood or anything, but it pissed me off. There was a spray bottle with water in it on the counter because she had been watering some plant so I grabbed it and sprayed into the cage hitting the bird that bit me full on. Well it flipped the fuck out flying crazy all over the cage just bashing into the grating before dropping dead on the bottom of the cage from what I can imagine was probably a heart attack. I was just like "Ohhhh shit" and went into the other room. Later that night we buried it in a shoebox in this little park in front of her apartment.
