A very nice fellow was around the apartment building today to powerwash the place in anticipation of painting. He was washing the back of the building, which is where the office is. I was just thinking "I'd better move Peanut back into the living room" when he started right outside the window, and suddenly Peanut was gone.

Literally.

Gone.

Bruce and I hunted everywhere in the office, behind the 17 computers, on the floor, under everything. We didn't seen him fly anywhere, we didn't hear him fly anywhere, there were no peeps or squawks. But he had completely disappeared. We were so looking for a needle in a hastack, gingerly moving anything in case we squashed him. ("Is he under my chair?" "No...is he under my chair?" "No.")

After about 15 minutes of pure panic, Bruce decided to think like a bird, and found him behind one of the couches in the living room - don't worry, there's a lot of room back there. Peanut had a ginormous dust bunny on the top of his head, but looked okay otherwise. He stayed on my shoulder for about half an hour, but finally started preening, and eventually flew home.

There's one adventure I'd rather not repeat. Ever.