In case I didn't make it clear when I announced that Frank finally discovered the joys of sitting inside a nest box, let me point out that it took him 7 years, 8 months and 19 days to finally try it out. Oh, he's perched on the edge of a nest (pops) many times in the past two years in order to get at the tasty seeds inside, and has even sat inside to snack. But this week was the first time he's sat inside a box just because it was a nice place to be. He was in and out quite a bit, and it made me smile each time I saw him looking out the box at me.

When Frank first started going inside, Bruce and I wondered if the molt was hitting him so hard that he really needed the extra security of the box. It turns out that was the case. In fact, he was probably hit by more than a bad molt. He came out of the nest box yesterday a bit uncoordinated. Bruce caught him too easily, and I put him in the hospital cage where he immediately played dead for at least two long minutes. Good and dead!

Thanks Ovaltine, for teaching all the Finsters that fun trick!

After he got up again, it was pretty clear that Frank might not even make it to the vet's office. He was uncoordinated, dozed a lot, and although he ate some millet (or at least pretended to), he wasn't able to poop. Well, he made it to the vet's, but he died a short time later. He might have had an organ failure (liver, maybe), or some sort of neurologic condition. And a bad molt.

At least he discovered the nest box.

This photo is of three brown birds, now all dead: Frank in the front, Sally in the back, and Bosco in the middle.

R.I.P. Frank, circa April 4, 1998 — December 27, 2005.

Frank was in and out of the Society's nest box at least three times last night! And when I popped by this morning, he was inside, staring out at me. He's a little like Sally when she discovered the white concrete perch: she completely ignored it for over a year, and suddenly it was her favorite place to be.

Apparently, all of Frank's activity got the other Finsters interested in that nest box, since this morning Ginger and Cinnamon both popped inside. They didn't stay very long, though.

I'm not sure if Frank slept inside the box with Earl Grey (and probably some Finster friends) last night, but chances are good that he did, since he didn't sleep on top of the box, as he usually does. He spent a few minutes on the box's porch when the lights went out, peeping loudly, which is another good sign. But I didn't want to watch the birds too closely, for fear of disturbing everybody too much. I also missed the birds leaving the box this morning, so there's no proof. But I'll keep watching.

Frank is definitely molting, he's looking ragged everywhere. He's also sleeping a lot, so clearly it's hitting him hard. I haven't tried taking pictures, because I don't want to stress him too much. Besides, I've taken pictures before (pops).

The molt is also why I didn't try to take a photograph to mark the awesome event that just took place:

FRANK WAS IN THE NEST BOX WITH EARL GREY AND OOLONG.

I've hoped that Frank would make friends with the Societies ever since Sally died, and I guess it's finally happened.

Words cannot describe the Finster sweetness.

Although birds are good at hiding if they're sick, there are a few signs to watch out for: nasty- (or even different-) looking poops, a bird that's sitting all puffed up, or a bird that sleeps more than normal. With male birds that typically sing their Hunka Hunka Burning Love songs a lot (and the Finsters always sing a lot), another good sign that they're not feeling well is if they're not singing anymore.

A week or two ago, I noticed that Earl Grey wasn't singing much. I also noticed a lot of poops on the floor of the Finsterium that were chalky — not just the urates, which are normally white and chalky, but the feces, too. With a bit of careful observation, I discovered that Earl Grey was the source. This chalky poop reminds me of Goober's poop, at the end of her life. It's either a sign of liver problems, old age, or both — maybe Society finches tend to have liver problems in their old age. So I started putting milk thistle in the Finsters' water at night, and since then the chalky poops have pretty much disappeared, and Earl Grey has started singing again. Good news!

Next, I noticed that Frank has stopped singing, and he's even stopped peering at Earl Grey while he's singing. Shocking! At first I worried that Earl Grey and Frank were both getting ready to die — they are the oldest finches in the Finsterium, after all. But then I decided Frank is probably just molting. He doesn't get as patchy and ragged looking as he did when Sally was still alive to help preen his head (can he do that on purpose?!), but I've noticed a pin feather or two on his back. Hopefully, he'll be back to singing and peering again soon.

The Pittsburgh Post-Gazette, among others, ran a story at Thanksgiving about wild turkeys, and how suburban areas make pretty good homes for them. It seems the wild turkey is a success story — there were only 30,000 in the US in the 1930s, and there are seven million now. Which means that people are starting to see the birds in their yards, and there are growing reports of aggression. This makes sense: wild turkeys live in flocks, and are ruled by the pecking order. If humans are nearby, some of the dominant males might assume that humans are part of that flock, and try to dominate them. Lucky for the turkeys, humans often do things that validate this thinking, like putting food out for them, or turning their backs and running away from the sharp spurs on the backs of their legs. As the article puts it, some human behavior "can encourage these lordly males to think that humans are a subservient life form."

The article, written by William M. Bulkeley for The Wall Street Journal, is called "One for 'The Birds': Wild turkeys attack people," (November 23, 2005). The photograph is from the Pennsylvania Game Commission's Public Photo Gallery, and was taken by Hal Korber. You can click here for a bigger version.

You're probably wondering what wild turkeys have to do with lunch with Peanut.

You may recall from the third installment that Peanut eats fast, and then Mind Controls Bruce into giving him sunflower seeds. Which means that if parrotlets are anything like wild turkeys — and they probably are — then Peanut rules Bruce. Which we've known for awhile. (In fact, we've been calling Bruce Peanut's Seed B**** for a few months, at least.)

But as we eat lunch with Peanut more regularly, Peanut has become more demanding. After eating quinoa, granola, oat groats, or some combination of them all, Peanut makes his way to Bruce's shoulder, which is the prime location for demanding sunflower seeds. Lots of them. I keep trying to explain that Peanut is giving him little Nibbles of Love — which he gives me all the time during snacking sessions. But Bruce insists they're Bites of Dominance, which, along with the Mind Control, makes him incapable of resisting Peanut's power.

Apparently.

6:58 am: although Bob's light has been on for about half an hour, the light over the Finsterium just turned on. Some of the Finsters were already up, but the light signals all the birds to get out of bed. Guess who just flew out of the Society nest box?

A SPICE FINCH.

Now, Oolong has been sleeping in Earl Grey's nest box for some time now. The two have become good pals, and spend a bit of time together during the day, as well, napping on top of nest boxes and preening each other. But I've never seen Earl Grey, who has spent all his life in the Finsterium, who never even saw a Spice finch before Move In Day, pal up with a Spice finch. And here he is sleeping with one!

How sweet!

(Um, yes, I was too lazy to get up to see which Spice finch was sleeping with the Socieities.)

Update: I told this story to Bruce, who said he's seen it before. "Where have you been?" he asked. Well, I wish I weren't here:

Apparently, somebody needs to get his wing feathers clipped.

Peanut is a little slow to recognize when he's molted enough of the clipped feathers to fly loops around the living room. And even day to day, now that he can fly loops, he won't try to do it every day. But you can see the gears whirring in his head when he flies a little loop, and then a minute later flies really fast in another little loop.

Today he ended up on top of the Finsterium, which is just a little too tall for me, my hand can't reach high enough for the bird to step UP, so he just climbed around the edge and laughed at me. So I grabbed the camera from the office, and a dowel for him to step up on. Lucky for me, Peanut stepped up on the dowel, and went home. He's such a good bird!

Of course, the weather in Michigan isn't ideal for taking Peanut to the vet's for a clip: the temperature is just below freezing, and there's a bit of snow on the ground. We'll have to see how often he remembers that HE CAN FLY!

You can click here for a close up of Peanut on the Finster cage.