While it certainly isn't the choco-colored Society Finster's fault that he responds so joyously to the rosey-fingered Dawn, or that he's stuck in the room right next to the bedroom, or that my phone had already woken me up at 4:30 am to beg for battery power — but really. This crowing before there's enough light to even pee by is getting a little old.

It isn't a crow in the same way that roosters call out cock a doodle doo first thing in the morning. (For that matter, I think roosters say something a little different in France, for example.) But he sang his Hunka Hunka Burning Love song, and danced his Hunka Hunka Burning Love dance (I know this because I got up to watch since I was a little concerned and surpised to hear bird noises before it was light). And then he did it all again some undetermined amount of time later — I'm not sure how long but long enough for me to pee, go back to bed, and go back to sleep again.

And so I repeat: Enough With The Crowing, because really, being a person who doesn't sleep all that well to begin with, and being mostly unemployed and all, and it being Saturday anyway, I really don't need an alarm clock. Not even a sweet, soft, tiny, cute bird. With a lung capacity 500 times its size.

More things I have learned about the new Finsters:

1: I believe that the choco-colored Society Finster learned his song from the Spice finches. Choco-boy (working on proper names) is easy to pick out, since he sings and dances, and so far I haven't seen a Spice finch dancing. But I'm pretty sure I've seen one singing, and so far I can't tell the two songs apart. I'm not sure how long all the new Finsters were living together in the Amazing Outdoor Aviary, but while you'd think choco-boy could pick from many different songs to learn, the Society/Spice hybrid suggests that these two species get along pretty well. Wink.

2: While the external bird bath serves well as an extra perch, a place to go (briefly) when the Evil Hand of Evil Doing is in the way, and as the occasional bath delivery system, in fact the water dish works much better. One bird will hop in and start splashing around, and all the others will line up, trying to get in at the same time. Of course, only one fits at a time, and after a couple of baths there isn't enough water for the rest. And everything gets wet. And then the Evil Hand of Evil Doing has to reach in to clean out, dry off, refill, etc.

3: I figure after a couple of weeks in the hospital cage, with the crowding, and the intrusion of the Evil Hand, and the grumpy people stumbling by to make sure The Crowing is simply a sign of joy at the (barely visible — have I mentioned barely visible?) Dawn and not a harbinger of doom, the new Finsters will have forgotten the Amazing Outdoor Aviary and be ready to move into the Finsterium. Which is a pretty nice place in its own right.