Not when a single, large leaf is carefully torn off an organic head of romaine, rinsed, and presented flat on the floor of the Finsterium. Then it's safe and tasty, and small birds climb all over it to tear small bits off. Good for eating!

But if a small pot of romaine seedlings is placed in the Finsterium, it's EVIL. So evil that the first day I put it in, the Finsters didn't go to the floor of the cage again until I took it out. How do I know this? Well, while I'd like to spend all my days watching small birds, reality dictates that I do other things. But I could tell the lettuce was evil because I put the pot in at the same time I put in the bath dish. Usually a long morning without an opportunity for a proper bath means that all the birds will take one within 20 minutes of getting that big dish of water. Or less. But two or three hours after the insertion of the Seedlings of Pure (Lettuce) Evil, the floor of the Finsterium was still dry. Evil. So I took it out.

The next day — because I just can't leave well enough alone — I put the pot back in again. Lettuce really shouldn't be evil, after all. The older Finsters should know better, since I put odd things into the Finsterium from time to time. And the newer Finsters should know better, too, since they spent last summer in Emma's Amazing Outdoor Aviary (and who knows what kind of exciting lives they had before that?). So back in it went, and this time it wasn't nearly so evil. While I never actually saw a newer Finster touch the pot of seedlings, at least they went down to the floor to eat, drink and bathe. And apart from Frank, who is still a bit timid, the older Finsters were playing with, sitting on, and eating the seedlings. Not so evil, after all.

Although both the seedlings and Goober are dead now, Goober did get a chance to play with them. She liked to sit in the dirt right in the middle of the plants, it was probably a little like a nest. Nice!

Goober's death has hit me pretty hard, partly because of the way she died ("read more" in that entry for the updated description), and partly because she's been around for so long. She was hatched in the Finsterium! But time passes.

Earl Grey, now the last of the Societies hatched in the Finsterium, chirped a few times for Goober the way he chirped when Tea died, but not lately. He sleeps alone now, but in the same nest box he's slept in for so long. He spends a bit more time inside the nest box during the day, and he spends time with Oolong, but he was doing those things before Goober died. Nutmeg and Goober had been starting to spend some time together, but Nutmeg has other bird friends.

And time passes.

The Magic left the steroids. Despite the fact Goober was still on them, and not getting weaned off yet, she woke up and stumbled around, clearly not doing well. The swelling in her belly was worse, but the vet had no new clues, no new miracles. Just a shot of poison to put her out of her misery. Here are a few nice pictures of her: one, two, and three.

R.I.P. Goober, November 2, 1997 — June 8, 2005
...Read More...

Goober woke up yesterday morning in very bad shape. Just the day before she was flying from the ground to a nest box 3 1/2 feet up in a single bound! But yesterday she fell out of the nest, and could barely walk. I caught her (very easily), cleaned up her poopy butt, wiped a seed hull from her eye, poked and prodded a bit, and gave her a drop of liquid calcium. There was a new symptom: a lump in her abdomen. So I crossed my fingers and took her to the vet's office, in the hope that this new symptom might suggest a new cure.

Not really, as is usually the case with tiny birds. But the vet tube-fed her some breakfast, since I was pretty sure she hadn't been able to eat anything, and sent me off with a course of steroids. That lump wasn't identifiable, but something was definitely swollen, and it was making Goober uncomfortable — despite being unsteady, she kept standing, as if the lump was too tender to rest on. The vet hoped the steroids would get the swelling to go down, and make her more comfortable.

Not the first dose, though. Relegated to the aquarium (placed on top of a heating pad, it's a nice spot for a very ill bird) poor Goober spent most of the day standing, awkwardly leaning against the glass, trying to sleep, not eating or drinking. I gave her the second dose right before I left for class, and after watching her pant while leaning against the glass for a few minutes, I was pretty sure she'd be dead by the time I got back.

Imagine my happy surprise when Bruce called me up about 20 minutes later to say she was eating tasty seeds! And when I got home, she was so eager to go to bed with Earl Grey that we scooped her up and popped her into the nest box!

(While the new Finsters have been very good about staying in the Finsterium when I reach in to grab Goober during the day, nighttime takes two people since they're more easily flutterpated. Bruce did the popping, while I watched Wasabi (Peas) fly right out of the cage and into Bob. Once Goober was settled, he got his wild and wacky long toenails clipped, and then sent back home to tell his friends about the adventure.)

Goober is still not right, but at least she doesn't look like she's dying. She's eating, pooping, able to rest on her tummy, and has made it up to nest boxes a couple of times — albeit not very gracefully. She'll be on the steroids for a while (it's a slow process to wean a patient off the drug), and there's no guarantee that The Magic will last once she's off the steroids. But for now, it's worth the try.

It was not until 3:09 pm that Peanut De-Nestified today. Three o'clock in the afternoon! It's unprecedented! And it also explains why I had such a hard time getting going today. Not the lack of sleep last night, not the impending thunder storms, but the lack of De-Nestifications.

This has happened only twice before: 4/30/05 and 5/6/05.