Independently of each other, Bruce and I looked in on Bosco on Monday morning, and decided she just didn't look right. Labored breathing, not moving much, I don't think she'd had anything to drink. Once we'd realized we both had the same reaction, I called the vet's office to bring her in. Now, we were lucky on Saturday, because there was an open spot that day, but Monday's schedule was much tighter. As a result, we paid the extra emergency fee to bring her in. We're calling her C-Note now.

The things we do for little birds.

As is usual for birds this small, the vet didn't see anything specific wrong besides the broken leg. Although C-Note had lost a gram of weight since the last visit, she was a bit porky to begin with, so the vet wasn't worried. We discussed taping again, and giving her antibiotics for no real reason, but I decided all those things would put too much stress on her with a broken leg. Instead — and particularly since Bosco was happily munching away on tasty seeds during most of this discussion — I decided to try to stop obsessing, accept the fact that she's in a bit of pain, remember that many creatures are stiff and slow-moving in the morning, and keep her warm and quiet while she heals. Although there isn't a specific timetable (like 20 doses of antibiotics), the vet figured the leg should be healed up in a couple of weeks.

Actually, this entry should be called R.I.P. Bosco, because she died sometime Wednesday night. As is usual with birds this small, the cause of death is something of a mystery. Although still quiet, she'd actually started getting a bit more active since the second visit to the vet. But, I'd already decided she was old and fat, and maybe the stress of a broken leg was just too much for her.

R.I.P. Bosco, November 2, 1997 — June 23, 2004.