No pictures, sorry. We're all still a little shocked. I made "tabouli," with quinoa instead of wheat, and with the addition of carrots — among other non-traditional items. Finsters and parrotlet all got to try a scaled down version: no dressing or scallions or anything like that, just plain quinoa and shredded carrots. Although everybody (even Peanut!) tried the carrots, the quinoa was the definite favorite. Just what I need, another non-vegetable food item that Peanut likes. But that's not the exciting story.

Not satisfied with the fare in his special dish, sitting on its special tray, Peanut flew home, flew to my head, stepped onto my hand (such a good boy), stepped back onto the tray, flicked a few bits of carrot around, ate a grain or two of quinoa, then launched himself and landed in my bowl. Smack, dab in the middle of the bowl, right on top of the "tabouli." Right away, he flew off to the Finsterium, where he told me about the experience, and then he flew home to preen a bit. I thought he might take a bath, but I guess he likes the scent of lemon juice and olive oil.

In case you needed proof that lots of birds stand on one foot, here's a Canada goose doing exactly that. Frank is not the only one. Although, unfortunately, it's entirely possible that this goose has a sore foot.

I was at the park last weekend, and I saw two families of yellow, fluffy, baby geese. Really. But I have no proof. I went again yesterday, and saw two families of juvenile geese, but there's no way they could be the same two families. Still I took a few pictures, and have posted them, and some photos from last summer, here. Interesting note: last year's photos were taken around May, and show lots of little babies. Could the cool, wet Spring have made such a difference?

I took this (mediocre) photo of Frank on a concrete perch a few days ago. I'd really hoped these perches would keep his toenails trimmed enough to stave off abrasions. No such luck. He sits on the concrete perch regularly, but he still gets abrasions on his toes.

The bad news is, he still seems to be favoring that one foot. The good news is, he's still curious about the world around him. Specifically, the male birds around him. Tea was singing his Hunka Hunka Burning Love song, and dancing his Hunka Hunka Burning Love dance to Earl Grey, and Frank flew right over to check it all out. A little later, somebody was singing (and dancing?) inside a nest box, presumably to Bosco since that's the bird I could see, and Frank flew into the air toward the box. He decided mid-flight that he wasn't going to see any action, though, and flew back to the perch.

So, his toe might still hurt, but it can't be all that bad. I hope. He's also been singing his own Hunka Hunka Burning Love song, which is another good sign that he's feeling well.

I was sitting on the couch, eating a sandwich, when Peanut flew over to my head, hopped onto the back of the couch, hopped onto my shoulder, and climbed down to the plate. Once there, he checked and re-checked all the crumbs for tasty seeds, although he refused my offer of the sandwich itself (which was in my other hand).

I'm trying to take advantage of this recent curiousity about my food. He eats pretty well, but his favorite food is still sunflower seeds, and I'd like to find something else that he loves that isn't the human version of potato chips. If nothing else, if he eats while I eat then we have a nice bonding experience.

Sally is molting. She looks terrible. She might also have a sore foot, but I'm not about to try to catch her to find out. Going through a terrible molt is hard enough.

Frank has a sore foot. The Bird Catcher caught him last night, I smeared Neosporin on the offending toe, Frank bit me HARD. I caught him again this morning, smeared Neosporin on it, and put him back in the Big House. Of course, he's standing on one foot and picking that toe right now. Normally I'd keep Frank out for another day or two, for more medication (and bites), but I'm off on an overnight trip and don't want to leave him alone in the hospital cage. I'll just have to get the Bird Catcher back again, if there's still a problem.

Lettuce is an every day staple in the Finsterium. The darker varieties have more nutritional value, so I usually get romaine, but the Finsters also like green leaf, red leaf, and Boston bib. No matter what the variety, the Finsters prefer the darker, outside leaves, and I prefer organic.

There are two techniques to eating lettuce. First, with your beak slightly open, poke both mandibles through the lettuce, chomp down, twist your head a little, and pull away. Yum. This creates lots of small holes in the leaf. This method could explain why my Finsters prefer softer lettuces to tougher greens like collards or kale.


Once there are enough holes in the lettuce, it becomes possible to "chew" the leaf material off from the rib. This method is also what the Finsters use to eat wheat grass.


Two final notes:

I rinse the lettuce leaf with water before placing it the Finsterium. Sally enjoys drinking the water drops off the lettuce. (Surprisingly, Frank and Sally both eat lettuce.)

When presented with a big piece of lettuce, held in somebody's hand, Peanut pretends to taste it, and will occasionally make a lettuce spit ball. When a piece of lettuce is placed in his food dish, he flicks it onto the floor. When a piece of lettuce is woven through the cage bars, he ignores it.

Sally is definitely molting, poor thing. I tried to take a couple of pictues, but they didn't come out. Somehow, the camera knows when the birds aren't at their best, and won't focus. Or so it seems.

Sally gets a little spooked by the camera — after all, I open the door to take pictures of the Finsters. So I probably won't try to take any more photos of her until she's through molting. The bad news is that molting puts a strain on the metabolic system. The good news is that birds usually won't start the molt if they're already feeling ill. So despite looking ruffled from the molt, and sleeping a bit more than usual, Sally will probably be fine as long as I don't add to the the stress. This means, no more pictures, and giving all the finches an enriched diet.

Of course, Sally doesn't eat much except seeds and lettuce. So while egg food would be very good for her, instead I'll give everybody soaked seeds every day (usually it's every other day). I know she eats them, they have more nutritional value than dry seeds, plus I can add vitamins every day.

I've been worried about Frank and Sally lately. I keep trying to convince myself they're just messing with my head, standing on one foot all the time. But I still worry. I take this quote to heart:

Many have forgotten this truth, but you must not forget it. You remain responsible, forever, for whatever you have tamed.
- Antoine de Saint Exupery

Looking at Sally today, I think she might be starting to molt again, which would at least explain her looking a bit under the weather. Checking back, I see that she was molting about six months ago. So it'd be about right if she's doing it again now. Poor thing, she has such a terrible time of it, and she's getting older.

I repeat, it's hard to have a pet.

This morning, after walking around and around the container of thawed, frozen corn, snacking and flicking, Peanut hopped down onto the counter, and checked out the fresh corn. He wasn't too interested in the cob, but he liked the fresh kernels that I'd cut off. They're tasty, and good for flicking, too!

The Finsterium is in the kitchen, so the birds know when I'm fixing food for them, and they like to watch. It's a little like the seagulls in the movie Finding Nemo: Mine? Mine? Mine? Mine? Mine? Mine? Since I don't cook much, it's pretty safe for the birds to assume that when I'm doing something with food it might be for them. Yum.

Yesterday was quite the bird day. First, I went to the park. The plan was to take pictures of baby geese, but there weren't any. Either I have my timing wrong, or this wet Spring has the birds' timing wrong. However, I did see these swallows. It's an odd picture — I'm looking way, way up at swallows tending their nests under a bridge. As good as I could get with my camera.

Then, I went to see the movie Winged Migration. This is a must-see for all who like birds. Really. Must.

Then, it was back home for Peanut's Warm Toasties.

It was evening, and I was doing the usual cleaning of the Finsterium: I open the big door, take out the water dish and soaked seed dish for cleaning, take out the top layer of paper, etc. The Finsters were mostly on top of nest boxes, being pretty quiet, except for Earl Grey. He flew to the lower perch on the left and looked at me. I looked at him. And then he started singing his Hunka Hunka Burning Love song, and dancing his Hunka Hunka Burning Love dance. Then he flew to the other side of the cage, and I went back to cleaning.

Then, he flew back to the lower perch on the left and looked at me. I looked at him. And he started singing and dancing again. To me. When he finished he flew to the right side of the cage. Then he flew to the left again, we looked at each other, and he sang and danced again. I think Earl Grey is in love with me.

Really.

...a picture really is worth a thousand words.

Not to harp (too much) on those pigeons sent to Iraq as sensors, I thought I'd mention an article on Wired today: Coal-Mine Canaries on a Chip. The article describes several research projects that use single cells or bacterium as modern-day versions of the 19th-century trick of bringing canaries down into coal mines.

Good news for pigeons and canaries.

I recently discovered that Jimmy Carter wrote a book of poetry: Always a Reckoning and Other Poems, by Jimmy Carter, Sarah Elizabeth Chuldenko (Illustrator). (Times Books, 1995). Here's one of the poems:

A Reflection of Beauty in Washington

I recall one winter night
going to the White House roof
to study the Orion nebulae,
but we could barely see the stars,
their images so paled by city lights.

Suddenly we heard a sound
primeval in its tone and rhythm
coming from the northern sky.
We turned to watch in silence
long wavering V's,
breasts transformed to brilliance
by the lights we would have dimmed.
The geese passed overhead,
and then without a word
we went down to a peaceful sleep,
marveling at what we'd seen and heard.

Peanut was really bored today, he kept fidgeting, flying back and forth to different places, yelling at me. So finally I grabbed the travel cage, popped him inside (well, that took two tries, since he isn't quite "trained" to go into the travel cage), and we went outside! It was a remarkably sunny day for this year's Spring in Michigan, so we had a good time. Peanut looked around, arnked a lot, squeaked and sang out to the nearby birds, and intently watched the two cars and one bike that drove by. I watched for hawks, mosquitos, and took a few pictures. After about 10 or 15 minutes, we went back in.

Wouldn't you know, he was still bored and fidgety!

Sometimes Sally stands on one foot, sometimes Sally stands on two feet. Can I tell if her foot still seems sore? No, not really. So I caught her squirming, tucked up body, looked at her foot, and saw no sign of an injury. Just to be sure, I smeared the foot (and quite a bit of her body) with Neosporin, and put her back in the Finsterium. Click for a close up of Sally. She's very lovely, now that she's had a bath or two.

For a good part of the afternoon, both Frank and Sally have been sitting next to each other on various perches, each standing on one foot, each possibly looking slightly under the weather. I hope they're just messing with my head. Maybe they've taken lessons from Peanut, and are trying to Mind Control me....

I was sitting on the couch, eating a sandwich, when Peanut flew over to my head, hopped onto the back of the couch, hopped onto my shoulder, climbed down to the plate, and proceeded to chew the edge of the sandwich to pieces. I'm pretty sure he was looking for tasty seeds(*), but he never found any.

* When I first got Peanut, I baked pancakes with hulled, uncooked (human grade) millet in them. I stopped doing that after a few months, since he hardly needed an excuse to eat more seeds. But ever since, whenever he's offered any sort of bread, he tears it up into crumbs. He might be eating it, but I'm betting he's still looking for tasty seeds.

Both Frank and Sally spend time standing on one foot. Many birds do this, particularly while sleeping or resting, so they won't lose body heat through the foot tucked up in their feathers. The difference in temperature between the tucked foot and the standing foot is pretty amazing — I know this from having Peanut walk onto my hand after he's been resting. I figure that Frank and Sally stand on one foot a lot since they have such big feet and long toes, and must lose a lot of body heat.

But, today it looked like Sally didn't want to put any weight on that foot. Even Therese noticed it, so once again Bruce was enlisted to do some bird catching.

Remarkably, we caught her first and pretty easily. I think I saw a small abrasion on her foot, although it was a little hard to tell. Unlike the Societies, who lie in my hand pretty calmly, or the Zebras, who twist and turn their heads and feet, or Frank, who bites me, Sally's scheme to get out of my hand proved pretty difficult to deal with: she squirmed while tucking her head into her belly, practically folded in half. I'm sure with some practice I'll learn to examine her more easily — although I'd rather not get the practice.

When in doubt, smear the potential owie (and, inevitably, almost the entire squirming bird) with Neosporin, and hope for the best. Sally stayed down on the floor of the hospital cage for the longest time, until I thought to turn the big light on in the room — apparently the night light didn't provide enough light for her to navigate in an unfamiliar space. She's up on the perch now.

Considering how much Peanut loves to sleep in a small, enclosed space (i.e., a hand with a blanket on top) I've always assumed that he'd like to play in other enclosed spaces. But for the most part, this isn't the case. I've gotten a few small enclosures for him, but unless there are snacks inside, he isn't interested.

The same is true for this coconut, which was sold in a pet store for mice. I hide snacks inside, but the closest he's ever gotten is to stand with one foot on the bookcase and the other on the edge of the opening. That is, until today! You can click on this picture for a bigger version. He squeaked, he turned around a few times, he squeaked some more, and finally climbed out. He may have been checking it out as a nesting site, but it's hard to say.

I control your mind! You will give me seeds! And later, you will give me more! And you will like it!

NOTE: Bruce is cracking open a sunflower seed with his teeth — this is one of the tastiest sunflower seeds that are too big for Peanut to open by himself. In fact, Peanut flew over and landed on Bruce's shoulder — an unusual event — in order to Mind Control him into giving him some seeds.

I noticed that Bosco was having a hard time sitting on a perch today. On closer inspection, I realized one of her back toenails had grown so long she couldn't easily grip the perch with that foot. Now that's long! So Bruce the Bird Catcher helped out.

First he got Decaffeinated — not because he planned to, but when you're catching birds you just take which ever one is easy for the taking. Plus, with that broken back toe, she can always use a trim. I clipped her nails, popped her in the travel cage, and went back for another. Next was Earl Grey who, despite his affinity for the concrete perches, still needed a few nails clipped. When he was done, I popped him in the travel cage, and went back for another. Next was Bosco, who had a couple of long toenails in addition to that wild back one. Otherwise she seemed fine, so all three Society finches went back into the Finsterium.

I've mentioned before that the Society Finsters are remarkably calm — particularly when you compare them to those wild Zebras or terrified White-Headed Nuns. This photo is proof. They're a little like rabbits — when you put them on their backs, they calm right down. Click here for a close up of calm Bosco.

She was mighty spooked after I put her into the Big House, though. She stayed on the floor for a few minutes, and then spent another 10 to 15 on a perch before she finally flew into a nest box for bed. Apart from the big cleaning, when all the birds get caught, poked and trimmed, I haven't had to handle Bosco much. And I suppose waiting for that picture didn't help.

Look closely: This is not just another picture of a small bird sleeping in somebody's hand. In fact, it's an upside-down picture of a very small, trusting bird, waiting for the hand to get tired of playing games, messing with his little head, taking pictures, and just turn him right-side-up again so he can go back to sleep. Click here for a close up of patient Peanut, upside-down.

I was washing up some dishes this morning with Peanut on my shoulder. He started climbing down my arm, and since I'm wearing a short-sleeved shirt, and he tends to slip off of my bare arms, I ended up leaning over with my forearms parallel to the ground while rinsing a dish. Peanut walked to my wrist, very interested in the water, so I turned the faucet down a bit and the temperature to cool, and waited. After walking in a couple of circles on my wrist, thinking about it, he finally leaned over and took a few drinks from the water cascading off the back of the plate. Wish I'd had a camera!

As The Master Of The Universe, you woudn't think that Peanut would have to use mind control. But he's very good at it. He leans down a bit, bobs his head up and down a few times, and sends out his Super Powerful Mind Control Rays. He gets the seed every time.