I suppose it was inevitable with all these lunch indulgences: Peanut is trying to take over dinner.

It started when we had dinner early because Bruce had class. Usually we had a late meal on those nights, but occasionally we'd eat before he left. And occasionally when that happened, Peanut decided he needed some food, too.

I wouldn't have taken this for a lunch trend until tonight. Peanut had already had his dinner, and in fact, we were eating late ourselves. By all rights, Peanut should have been ready for Warm Toasties. But no. At 7:39 pm, he wanted food. And sunflower seeds for dessert (of course). At least he didn't insist on having snacks on the top of the couch, instead he stayed low down on his table. And when he was finished, he flew from the table to the top of my head, bringing his last snacks with him.

At least I don't have to wonder how tasty seeds get into my bed.

Peanut continues to win the Lunch Game. In order to dominate us, he is now insisting on eating his snacks on top of the couch. Depending on how tall the futon is sitting, this places him in a position that is higher than our heads — or at least on the same level. Which means he's better than we are. Or at least our equal. But really, he's much better than we are.

The good news is that now he spends more time eating his own snacks than he does Mind Controlling Bruce into giving him sunflower seeds. The bad news is that he's now inches away from Bruce's head — so when he's ready for tasty seeds, he's just a short hop away from giving Bruce little Nibbles of Love Bites of Dominance.

Fresh herbs can be a nice snack for a Finster. At least, you'd think so.

But Finsters can be very picky about the foods they eat. My four original birds, Mr. Finster, Mrs. Finster, Finster Girl and Little Naked Finster Buddy, liked to nibble daintily from a basil plant growing in their cage. But that plant was torn to shreds in a matter of days when I introduced Biker Chick, Bambi, Tea and Chocolate to the family. Not because the new birds were hungry, but because they were building nests.

My current Finsters occasionally nibble on herbs, but seem to prefer eating lettuce leaves that are at least ten times their size. Instead, like my second group of Finsters, they mostly think herbs are good for building nests. Especially when it comes to dill.

Although the occasional small sprig of dill makes it into a nest box, the favorite pieces are about ten inches long, unwieldy, impossible to get into a nest box, and probably heavier than the birds are. The bigger the sprig, the better the mating aid. It's really fun to watch!

This picture shows Ginger, being surprisingly calm while I had the door open to take it.

Often when Peanut is eating a seedball (Nutriberry) from my hand (twice a day, every day), he'll give me a little love bite. Just a little nibble on my finger. I'm sure I taught him to do this, albeit without realizing it. He probably missed the seedball one day in his happy zeal to snack on something tasty, got my finger instead, and I thought it was funny so said something encouraging. "Am I tasty, too?" Or, "You missed, silly little seed head!"

How do I know I was being encouraging? Because he's started to bite me harder. He's learned that when he nibbles me while he's eating a seedball I say sweet things to him — so clearly, if he bites me harder, I'll say even sweeter things. Right?

Well, no. Because he's starting to hurt. Or at least, he's biting hard enough to startle me. So I've had to train him that this is a bad thing.

It's simple enough, as long as I'm consistent: When he bites me I pull my hand away, and I say, "no biting." Two seconds later, I bring my hand back into snacking position, and encourage him to eat breakkies or dins, whichever is appropriate. So far it's working. He's mostly stopped biting me so hard.

But some behaviors are harder to change. Like Bruce's habit of giving Peanut a sunflower seed every time he asks.

Or Peanut's unwavering love of granola.

Clearly, I didn't give him enough in his own dish, so he came over to help me eat mine.

I'll have to stop letting him eat from my bowl while Bruce gets the camera before I can train him to eat from his own dish. AND NOT MINE. There's milk in it, after all, and that's not good for him.

This is the condolence card that the vet sent for Frank. My vet's office is very nice, they always send cards when they know that a pet has died. Sometimes I forget to expect a card, so it's a bittersweet reminder of an old friend.

I'm over the shock of Frank's death, and I've only called Earl Grey "Frank" once, but I still miss him. His lovely song, as he tried to wake all the other Finsters, first thing in the morning; the way he peered at Tea and Earl Grey when they sang their Hunka Hunka Burning Love songs; the way he chewed on everything in the cage. As the vets always remind me, I gave him the best life I knew how, and he lived a pretty long life for a Finster. Here's a nice way to remember him, hanging out with all his Finster buddies (photo left deliberately small due to all the poop on the dirty perch). From the left: Frank, Cinnamon or Cassia, Ginger, Oolong, Earl Grey.