An Internet Friend, after reading the entry "Can I Please Sleep On The Sofa, Instead Of In The Car?," said her mother asked what happened to "poor, weak-minded Bruce?" I told her that Bruce was clearly so upset at annoying me that I let him stay inside. But when I recounted this story to another Internet Friend (Internet Friends are the best!) I realized my error.

After all, Peanut is the Master Of The Universe.

If Bruce were all the way out in the car, he might have been out of range for Mind Control. And then where would Peanut have been when he wanted a late night snack of half a dozen sunflower seeds?

So clearly, Peanut Mind Controlled me into allowing Bruce to stay within range of his Awesome Powers Of Snack Acquisition.

Lucky Bruce!

At nine and a half years, Earl Grey is either well past life expectancy, or a little past middle age — depending on which source you read. He is, I think, the oldest bird I have ever shared my kitchen with. This makes me a little sad, since barring any other disasters he'll probably be the next to go. So I've been trying to spoil him — which, as the Bird Goddess, is in my job description.

The latest Method of Spoiling is to keep him supplied with plenty of nesting material. This is a nice treat for all the Finsters, who just can't get enough of that grass. But the fun part is, despite his age, Earl Grey is building just as much as the rest of them. If you'll recall, he's quite the attractive Finster when he Dances With Sticks (photo with "pet grass" is here, and photo with millet spray is here, both photos pop) (or you can read about it here or here). Timothy hay and the odd bit of raffia make him equally attractive. Hey, I don't call them Hunka Hunka Burning Love songs and dances for nothin'!

But Earl Grey really wants to know why it took me nine years to give him any nesting material. Nine YEARS? I mean, c'mon.