Peanut went to visit the vet for his annual checkup — a little late this year. As usual, the first thing the vet did was trim his wing feathers. Actually, as usual, the first thing that happened is he got away from the vet and flew around the room a little. He'd step into my hand well enough, but then he'd fly away again when he got near the vet. Finally, wrapped in a wash cloth, the vet gave him a light clipping (just the outer four feathers on each wing), and proceeded to poke, prod, and otherwise check him out. At 22 grams (since I've had him, he's weighed as much as 23, and as little as 21.4 grams), Peanut was declared healthy, and very cute. After the check-up was over, Peanut went back into the travel cage, where the bird who loves to fly loops around the living room turned into the bird who really needed to take a long, quiet nap after being poked and prodded so much.

P**P came up in the conversation, since I'm still pretty worried about it. The vet asked about changes in food, the color of the cage lining paper, and offered to do a slide checking for blood cells if I find another one. Her best suggestion, considering the lack of clues, is that one of the hens may be getting ready to lay an egg. Apparently, a hen's insides move around and get stretched out a lot (sometimes tearing) when she's about to lay. Uck.

This theory was also mentioned by a woman on a finch e-mail list I belong to. So, I'm watching for sick birds, looking for wet vents, waiting for more nasty poops, adding extra calcium to their diets, and hoping for the best.