You know how kids always want to touch things when they check something out? Well, birds always want to taste them. I'm not sure if they literally like to taste new things, but they use their mouths to interact with the world in the way we use hands. For touching, holding, and, well, checking things out. Peanut was pretty fascinated when I rolled the coins up. Nickels were his favorite. Click to see a bigger version. NOTE, though, that these days pennies have zinc in them, which is very toxic to birds. Particularly if your bird big enough to mar the metal with their beaks, don't give them pennies as toys!

I was washing dishes today, and Peanut was hunting for snacks on the bookcase. I kept my ears open, though. Sure enough, he climbed up the play gym and launched himself off the top to land on my head. What with his feather clipping the other day, I have to be particularly alert — I ducked down just a bit, and he made a perfect landing!

Although I don't talk about it much, Peanut flies over to my head at least once every day, and usually several times. A little less often just after a wing feather clipping. It is very nice to have a bird on your head.

Frank is feeling better — he's even singing his Hunka Hunka Burning Love song. But a week after his first visit with the vet, Frank's toe still isn't completely healed. This seemed pretty odd to me, so I scheduled a follow-up visit. As you can see, he isn't too happy about being in the travel cage.


The vet agreed that the toe really should have healed by now, so she took a close look at the toe. She decided that it looked pretty good, but she didn't want to pick the scab off. Well, who would? No more ointment, and she suggested I take the perches out of the hospital cage to give his foot a rest, but a few more days in the hospital cage was probably the best idea.

That perch idea is an interesting one, but in the end I left them in. The design of the hospital cage just doesn't make it easy to take them out.

It took about a month, but Sally has finally gotten through her molt. It sure seems like that took a long time. Click for a larger version of the picture. She's so lovely!

Frank loves baths, and will take several a day given the chance. But in the hospital cage, space is pretty cramped. This is the dish I use for water, and as you can see, it's pretty small for a type of bird that averages 4 1/4 inches long. I've never tried to measure Frank, but I think he is longer than that. But Frank must have decided he was dirty enough today, because he took a nice bath in this small dish. Must be all that ointment I keep smearing on his toe and most of his body.

The other day a tea-colored Society finch was in one of these dishes, and appeared to get stuck in it momentarily. Society finches are supposed to be about the same length as a White-Headed Nun, or slightly longer, but in this case I think the bird got just a little stuck because my Societies are so much pudgier than the average Society finch.

Several years ago the late Zebra finch Ma, also known as Mrs. Finster, took a bath in one of these dishes. Zebras are supposed to average 4 inches, but mine always seemed just a little bit smaller than that. At any rate, despite the fact that the dish was filled with Gatorade (which is another story altogether), Ma had a fine bath, and probably got much wetter, although not necessarily much cleaner, than Frank managed today.

Peanut went to visit the vet for his annual checkup — a little late this year. As usual, the first thing the vet did was trim his wing feathers. Actually, as usual, the first thing that happened is he got away from the vet and flew around the room a little. He'd step into my hand well enough, but then he'd fly away again when he got near the vet. Finally, wrapped in a wash cloth, the vet gave him a light clipping (just the outer four feathers on each wing), and proceeded to poke, prod, and otherwise check him out. At 22 grams (since I've had him, he's weighed as much as 23, and as little as 21.4 grams), Peanut was declared healthy, and very cute. After the check-up was over, Peanut went back into the travel cage, where the bird who loves to fly loops around the living room turned into the bird who really needed to take a long, quiet nap after being poked and prodded so much.

P**P came up in the conversation, since I'm still pretty worried about it. The vet asked about changes in food, the color of the cage lining paper, and offered to do a slide checking for blood cells if I find another one. Her best suggestion, considering the lack of clues, is that one of the hens may be getting ready to lay an egg. Apparently, a hen's insides move around and get stretched out a lot (sometimes tearing) when she's about to lay. Uck.

This theory was also mentioned by a woman on a finch e-mail list I belong to. So, I'm watching for sick birds, looking for wet vents, waiting for more nasty poops, adding extra calcium to their diets, and hoping for the best.

Tea was just singing his Hunka Hunka Burning Love song, and dancing his Hunka Hunka Burning Love dance, to Darjeeling. Earl Grey flew over next to Tea, and started sidling over to him. Finally, Earl Grey's attention got Tea to stop singing and dancing. Next, Earl Grey started singing and dancing (although Darjeeling was on the far side of Tea). Tea started sidling over to Earl Grey, until he stopped singing and dancing.

I'm hoping this singing and dancing is a sign that Earl Grey and Tea are both feeling fine, and not the creators of yesterday's nasty poop. Bosco may also be clear, since yesterday afternoon I saw her poop, and that one was fine.

These are the only clues I have so far. No new nasty poops, thank goodness, and no birds that are clearly unwell. I'll just keep watching.

Face it, poop is part of life, and birds do it about every 15 minutes, so there's a lot of it. Since it can be the only visible clue about a bird's health, it's also very important to pay attention to it. But I try not to talk about it much here.

Today is an exception. I discovered a nasty-looking poop in the Finsterium this morning. Red, with no red-colored foods fed lately, no red ink on the newspaper, and no ideas. So far I've only seen this one offender. If you really want to see what a bird poop should not look like, click to see a nasty photo of a nasty poop. But I don't recommend it.

It's times like these that having a community flight seems like a bad idea. I watch the Finsters regularly, but honestly haven't seen any of the birds looking ill. With so many in the same cage, it'll be really hard to figure out what's going on. So far, despite looking up at bird's vents and watching them closely, I can't tell which one is sick. Or, I suppose, if one is sick. The Societies always spend a lot of time inside nest boxes, or dozing on top; Sally always spends time on top of a nest box. So far I don't have any clues except that poop, and I think I'm starting to make the Finsters nervous, watching them so much. At least I know it isn't Frank.

As you can see from this (mediocre) photo, Frank is now spending his day on the perch of the hospital cage, and not the floor. This suggests he's feeling better, and his foot looks much better, too. He's not all better, though, so I took him to the vet today. I usually only take the Finsters to the vet when they're clearly ill, but Frank gets these abrasions on his feet pretty often, so I decided a doctor visit would be good for him.

The vet's office I go to is familiar with birds, so I don't worry too much about the Society Finsters or Peanut, but I always warn them about Frank and Sally. They're such delicate, flighty birds that the stress of the visit really could do them damage. In fact, Frank battered himself around in the travel cage until I covered it with a cloth, and I kept it covered until the vet was ready to examine him. She poked and prodded Frank, gave him a professional nail trim, and weighed him. Apart from his weight — which was lower than the last time he was at the vet's about two years ago — she declared him just fine. I'll keep smearing his foot with anti-bacterial ointment until it's completely healed (probably a couple of days), and watch him to make sure he's eating. Hopefully his weight loss is from being away from the Big House for a few days, and not a sign of illness.

During the five years Peanut and I have lived together, we have learned how to get along pretty well. Mostly, of course, I have accommodated his wishes, but he also follows a few of my rules. For example, once I figured out that he doesn't like to step onto fingers (which took me a few months), I taught him to step onto my flat, outstretched right palm when presented heel side first. He's very good about that now, and will step onto my hand a good 99% of the time. Just try to get a cat to follow direction so well!

The one exception is when Peanut is sitting on my shoulder, or the collar of my shirt. Then, he can be pretty hard to budge. Often the only way I can get him to leave is to lure him away with a tasty seed. Obviously, this isn't a good solution. Twice now — and I'm not proud of this — I have carefully taken off my shirt, and had him step into my hand from there. Obviously, this isn't a good solution either. Peanut prefers the tasty seed idea, I'm trying to figure out something else.

Frank update: Frank is still spending most of his day sitting on the food or water dish that sit on the floor of the hospital cage. This concerns me: the ground is not a safe place for a prey animal that isn't feeling well. So either his foot is really bothering him, or he is familiar enough with the hospital cage that he feels safe on the ground. Hopefully it's the latter. The good news is that — through the miracle of Neosporin — his foot is looking much better. And, despite a terrifying moment when he was limp in my hand, usually he struggles and bites me when I smear ointment on his foot.

A couple of Cheerios usually hide with tasty seeds and other snackable items in the bottom of Peanut's nest. Sometimes he ignores them, sometimes he tastes them, sometimes he eats a bite or two. He loves oat groats, and I'm sure he can tell that Cheerios are made of oats, but he doesn't really love Cheerios. Unless, of course, he's presented with an entire, big bowl of them. Then he's right there, checking them all out, taking a bite or two, and flicking them around. To tell the truth, I think the cereal may be just a little too big for him to bite into. We'll have to mention that to the friendly people at General Mills, and see if they can make a parrotlet-sized version. While we're at it, maybe they'll hire Peanut as a spokesbird. I'd buy a box from this bird, wouldn't you? You can click on the small photos for bigger versions.

I'd been trying to pretend everything was fine, but when I saw Frank eating seeds standing on one foot, I knew it was time for action. Bruce did the catching, well after dark, using the bird-friendly net. Once caught (and the catching went easily), the bird fits in the bottom of the net, the handle is turned slightly, and the rim forms a hands-free barrier. The net can then be carried to a spot (in my case, the bathroom) where first-aid items are set out and ready, and doors can be closed in case the bird gets away.

Frank did have an abrasion on his foot, and it was worse than I've seen before. Feeling guilty that I hadn't taken care of this sooner, I quickly trimmed a few toenails, and smeared the abrasion with anti-bacterial ointment. And no, it wasn't that easy — it never is! Frank got away from me once. That's why I do this in the bathroom, so the bird can't get too far away. Unfortunately, Frank got momentarily stuck behind the cabinet, but he emerged unscathed. Phew.

Into the hospital cage, where he had a (near) midnight snack. That cheered me up a bit, until I peeked in a few times and he was still on the food dish. That didn't seem right. Frank has been in the hospital cage before, and he always sleeps on a perch. Maybe the dish is more comfortable for his owie toe.

Like many computer connoisseurs, Peanut prefers Apples.

Too bad about those tasty seed crumbs.

There are often small pieces of paper towels on the couch, for cleaning up the poops deposited during Warm Toasties. That's all I'll say about that. Except to say that small pieces of paper towels make pretty good toys. Peanut picks them up in his beak, tosses them into the air, flicks them around, and bites holes in them. Unlike paper strips, which are tossed away to find the tasty seeds underneath, paper towel bits are fun to keep around.

By way of explanation, there were a couple of days of network troubles, a couple of days of travel, and a couple of days of server problems.

Peanut was very happy to have me back, he must have squawked for ten minutes straight. Then he started his Mind Control tricks, for tasty seeds. After that, he wouldn't let me out of his sight — although that's not so unusual. This morning he yelled for me, I hadn't slept well so it took awhile for me to get out of bed, but I sure heard him. Things should get back to normal soon.

It's been two weeks now, and poor Sally is still molting. She's on the upswing, but she still looks pretty rough. Although I did have to do a big Finsterium cleaning during these past two weeks, I've held off on all other major intrusions, like picture taking, in order to try to give Sally a rest. These two photos were taken on June 21, the day I officially decided that Sally had started another molt.

Lovely Decaffeinated is on the left, and Lovely Darjeeling is on the right. You can also see close-ups of both Decaffeinated and Darjeeling. Sally is out of focus with Decaffeinated; that brown triangle below her big, black eye is a badly-molted patch. She doesn't have such big patches now, thank goodness. Here's a lovely photo of Sally; I'm sure she'll look this good again.

This brown dish is the one that Peanut uses to take baths. I wash it frequently, but it always ends up right about here, on the right side of the Finsterium. Remember, my kitchen is small, and the Finsterium is big. I recently realized that Frank positions himself so that Peanut's bath dish hides him when I'm doing almost anything in the kitchen. Click here for a close-up of Frank hiding behind the dish — but don't be fooled. He knows I'm watching him here, and he's raising his head a bit to watch me back. Often (depending on exactly where I've placed it), he's completely hidden by that dish.

Broccoli stems remain a favorite with the Society Finsters. Lately, I've been peeling the stem, cutting it in half, and slicing each half into thin strips. Much easier to snack on that way.

Frank was just on the second concrete perch (with Tea) for the first time, ever (that I've noticed, anyway). Tea left, and then Frank sang his Hunka Hunka Burning Love song twice.

Yes, I get excited by simple things. That's what happens when you have pets.

Foot update: Frank has not been favoring his foot as much, so hopefully those two quick smears of antibiotic ointment did the trick.

This is, I think, the third time Peanut has done something like this, but the first time I got a photo. He was on my shoulder, as usual, while I was washing dishes. He climbed down my arm toward the water, so I turned the water to cool, leaned over to make the trip easier for him, and cupped my hands. He took several drinks from the pool in my hands. Very refreshing! Maybe one day he'll take a bath there.