After her 20th dose of antibiotics on the 24th, Bosco went back into the Big House — straight to the dish of soaked seeds. Although she seemed to work a bit harder flying around, that's understandable, considering she'd been confined to a small space for ten days. Apart from that, she seems...about the same as she did before the course of medication. She seems to spend a lot of time snacking, and a lot of time eating. She's puffed up a bit sometimes. But she's also usually the first down snacking on soaked seeds, she's acvite (when she's not napping), and she'll hover in front of the plastic nest box to see if there is any millet spray inside. One moment I'm ready to put her back in the hospital cage, and the next I'm convinced she's fine.

The only other clue — the bloody poop — remains a mystery. The thing about blood in poops is that unless you see them fresh, the color goes dark. That could be blood, that could be dark green from lettuce, or it could just be first-morning poop. (Stop with the details.) Truth is, I saw dark poops in the hospital cage, and dark poops in the Finsterium both with and without Bosco inside. So it's still a mystery.

I've decided, therefore, that Bosco is mature (six years is anywhere from middle-aged to old for a Society finch, depending on which source you read) and porky (although I've never gotten her weighed, she's definitely one of the bigger Societies I have).

Both photos are of the darker Bosco and the lighter Darjeeling. The picture on the cuttlefish bone is from yesterday, but not great. The picture on the nest box is a few months old, but very pretty. You can click here for a close up.

Practiced Peanut produces perfect, potent poop paintings.

Well, it's better than going on about the bath he'd taken earlier this morning, to explain why the poops are so watery....

Bosco is bored because she's in the hospital cage: 10 doses down, 10 to go.

She had been spending a lot of time eating, puffed up, and then I actually saw her poop a bloody poop. Not the worst bloody poop I've ever seen, but blood is blood. So she's in the hospital cage, on antibiotics. According to the article "Poopology 101," (Birdtalk magazine, August 2003), blood in poops may or may not be caused by something that antibiotics can treat. But I had the medicine on hand, and with such a small bird, there aren't many options for treatment. She's warmer in the hospital cage, and has more opportunity to rest, so it can't hurt.

Except for being bored, of course. She's been sedentary compared to flighty Frank or Goober, who likes to hang onto walls. She also doesn't seem as bothered by the big perches in the hospital cage as Goober was — I sanded the cage and added a platform, but so far have left the big perches.

So far, so good.

(This photo is not from the hospital cage.)

Goober got her last dose of antibiotics this morning, and then she went back into the Finsterium. She snacked on a pepper seed, got some attention from Tea and Earl Grey, snacked on seeds, flew up to the perch, got some more attention from Tea and Earl Grey, snacked on seeds, was Queen of the seed tower for a few minutes, and then took the longest bath, ever. I wasn't watching all day, but I'm pretty sure she took at least three baths. No signs of illness, just a bird glad to be back snacking and resting with her mates. She also hovered in front of the plastic nest box a few times, to see if there were any tasty seeds inside.

Goober is very bored, all alone in the hospital cage. She spends her days snacking, trying to get a decent bath, resting, bouncing around, and hanging on the wall. But twice a day, right after I give her a dose of antibiotics, she sits on the floor in the light.

Now, although it's perfectly normal for, say, a duck to sit on the ground, it's a bad sign when a finch does this. Sitting on the floor usually means that they're not feeling well at all. Needless to say, Goober's behavior has freaked me out more than once. But after a few minutes of sitting on the floor, she starts bouncing around again. I figure one of the following is going on:

• Getting caught and covered with pink stuff is traumatic, and the poor bird is simply resting after the experience.

• Goober is deliberately trying to freak me out as payback for catching her and smearing her with pink stuff.

Truth is, the hospital cage isn't the best design — at least not for my Finsters, who have slept all their lives in or on nest boxes. The perches in the cage are too thick to grab easily with their feet, but too narrow to act as a sleeping platform.

In fact, last night the poor dear fell off the perch. But, um, I'm sure she meant to do that.

Only two more doses of antibiotics to go, so I should only get freaked out twice more, Goober has only one more night of uncomfortable sleep, and then I'll be able to fix the cage up so the next sick Finster doesn't have to sit on the floor to rest up.

The bottom photo turned out pretty well, so you can click here for a close up.