My parents bought a bird before I was born. He died when I was 14 and he was 17. He was very cranky. In the end his bite didn't hurt and he couldn't fly. He landed on the floor. I think he died peacefully.

A couple of days later my mum bought a new budgie. I loved him very much and he loved me. I could lay him on his back and cuddle him. He followed me around like a dog, best friends.
He died from testicular cancer. He ate some magnetic stuff from some ancient broken toys. He was only a couple of years. There was nothing we could do. My father called a buddy of his who was army guy (the equivalent of navy seal in my country), and his friend snapped the birds neck. I wasn't home. My parents told me the bird died from natural causes. I think 10 years went by before they told me the truth. They said they called this guy because none of them had the heart.

There was another budgie afterwards. He was sort of average-good. He would cuddle and like the others run around on the table when we ate. My father would have a potato in his mouth and the bird sit on his shoulder would eat from it, like the others. My sister hated it. She also waved the bird away and it hated her.

My brother loved to tease the birds. One time he was cuddling the bird with his nose. The bird loved it and closed his eyes in pleasure. Then my brother would lick the birds head and the bird couldn't tell the difference. Because of the spit the plumage on his head would get messed up. Looked so funny.
Also one time the bird walked around on the dinner table. We were having a bunch of different dishes, one of them was spaghetti meatballs. My brother took some spaghettis - the long ones - and slapped in onto the back of the bird. The bird didn't notice for a second or two. Then the bird got upset and danced around until the spaghetti fell off. He died peacefully some years later. Good times. My parents didn't want any more birds because us kids had all moved out.

A few years ago I moved in with my girlfriend. She started talking about getting a budgie. We bought a cage and toys and stuff. Then we got a budgie. He was very pretty and very shy. A few months later we got another one. This one was very optimistic and playful. They were an odd couple. They flew around the flat and had a great time.
We kept them until we moved from the big city to the suburbs. In the city all you could hear were drunk people, traffic, sirens. In the suburbs you can hear birds, the wind in the tree, people chatting in the street. Our two budgies started screaming at 5 or 6 o'clock every morning because they heard birds outside. We had to give them away to some extended family.

Some months went by. Then we met the people who took over the budgies. They kept 'em in a huge cage with 10 or so other birds. We asked how they were doing.
They said "the quiet pretty budgie immediately got a new best friend and never plays with his old friend. The optimistic budgies for some reason never wants to sleep. He's always the last one out, he sits there screaming, he's got this real annoying baby-like scream. Finally we have to chase him into the sleeping chamber with the other budgies."

The other day I cleaned my bike and there was a birds feather stuck in the cogwheel. I removed it and though of all the budgies again. So there you go. With all the bullshit on this forum, now at least you have a decent, honest story to keep you company.