I was doing the monthly (or so) cleaning of the Finsterium yesterday, with the door wide open to sweep out seed hulls (and things), when Frank flew out of the cage, over to the living room, and into Bob (the ficus tree). The birds are pretty used to me sweeping out these days, so don't usually come out anymore. But some garden guys were outside trimming, so Frank was a little flightier than usual.

He flew into Bob, higher up in Bob, back to the kitchen, landed on the counter, flew up and clung to the top of the cabinet door for a minute, then back into the living room. This whole time I was slowly following him, trying to herd him back through the Finsterium door, still wide open. I considered getting the camera, since it's a bit of a treat to the Finsters in my space, but then Frank started flying into the windows. Ouch. So I grabbed a napkin, and finally managed to toss it over him. I scooped him up and popped him into the travel cage.

Once I finished cleaning out the Finsterium, I took Frank into the bathroom to trim those long toenails of his. He managed to bite me a couple of times, but like before (and before) he didn't draw blood. Phew! Still, better that he's fiesty. Then it was back home to rest after his adventure and pedicure.

Independently of each other, Bruce and I looked in on Bosco on Monday morning, and decided she just didn't look right. Labored breathing, not moving much, I don't think she'd had anything to drink. Once we'd realized we both had the same reaction, I called the vet's office to bring her in. Now, we were lucky on Saturday, because there was an open spot that day, but Monday's schedule was much tighter. As a result, we paid the extra emergency fee to bring her in. We're calling her C-Note now.

The things we do for little birds.

As is usual for birds this small, the vet didn't see anything specific wrong besides the broken leg. Although C-Note had lost a gram of weight since the last visit, she was a bit porky to begin with, so the vet wasn't worried. We discussed taping again, and giving her antibiotics for no real reason, but I decided all those things would put too much stress on her with a broken leg. Instead — and particularly since Bosco was happily munching away on tasty seeds during most of this discussion — I decided to try to stop obsessing, accept the fact that she's in a bit of pain, remember that many creatures are stiff and slow-moving in the morning, and keep her warm and quiet while she heals. Although there isn't a specific timetable (like 20 doses of antibiotics), the vet figured the leg should be healed up in a couple of weeks.

Actually, this entry should be called R.I.P. Bosco, because she died sometime Wednesday night. As is usual with birds this small, the cause of death is something of a mystery. Although still quiet, she'd actually started getting a bit more active since the second visit to the vet. But, I'd already decided she was old and fat, and maybe the stress of a broken leg was just too much for her.

R.I.P. Bosco, November 2, 1997 — June 23, 2004.

Round, orange, the perfect size
for a tablespoon of seeds
and a 16-gram Finster.
Safe, supportive, snacks.

Actually, this entry should be called Bosco Broke Her Leg because that's what happened, sometime yesterday as far as I can tell. I don't know how it happened, but I do know that the small, glazed clay dish is perfect for her to sit in. Not only is it comforting, because it's filled with tasty seeds, it supports her body so there isn't quite so much stress on her leg. Otherwise she'd be sitting on the floor on her belly, left leg splayed way out, face practically on the floor.

The vet poked and prodded her late this morning, felt a break high up on the leg, and recommended - well, not much, as is usual in the case of such tiny birds. But, warmth and rest are always good, so Bosco will be in the hospital cage for a little while. The vet also suggested aspirin for the pain (one regular strength adult aspirin dissolved in one cup of water for one 16-gram bird, but DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME unless your bird is near the same size or you've spoken with an avian vet). We'll go back for a checkup in a week or so, to be sure the bone is healing well.

I've never broken a bone, but I'll bet it hurts. Poor thing. Still, a broken leg is better than a stroke. Or being eaten by zombies.

I've mentioned before that one of Peanut's favorite games is to make spit balls out of paper. Any paper. Paper I put in his cage or on his play gym for that specific purpose, paper he can reach while on the play gym (bills, for example), paper he can reach while sitting with me on the couch (books, for example). You can imagine how difficult (and entertaining) it can be trying to put groceries away, with all those paper bags everywhere. Go ahead, imagine. I'll try to get pictures one day.



This time, the excitement came when I went to put new paper in the Finsterium. Now, every few weeks I pile up lots of layers on the two sides of the Big House, so that I simply take away a layer to clean up. But the middle tray gets cleaned out every day, so every day I put new paper in. Today, Peanut saw me, and took a few minutes out of his normal snacking schedule to make a whole mess of spitballs.



You can see bigger versions of these photos here and there.

Peanut and I play the King of the Knee game from time to time, but yesterday he started it. Usually, I sorta dump him there from my hand. Yesterday it was clearly his idea — and you should have heard the squeaking and chortling once he got there! He wasn't quite as excited today, but I didn't have the camera yesterday. Click here for a big version of the photo.