Fourth of July

I've had a quiet day -- on purpose. I went to Target for some vet tape to tape Sugar's sandy perch -- she has a callous on her right foot and the vet said to wrap it, While I was there I picked up a bunch of junk food. After I wrapped the perch I put Sugar back in her cage with results you probably guessed -- she wouldn't go near it. In fact, later in the afternoon she took a nap on the floor of the cage beneath the perch in order to avoid it. There's another cloth perch in her cage so she's got plenty of things to climb on. I hope she gets used to the tape.

I'm still dumbfounded that my ex-friend might give a bird to that woman who doesn't know how to treat birds. But I keep reminding myself that there's nothing I can but hope it all works out for the best of the birds.

I called my friend's father, even though I'd only met him once. He sounded broken. I told him I had been friends with his daughter, that she was a remarkable person, and that I'll miss her very much. Then I told him to take very good of himself and we hung up. Now all afternoon I've been wondering if he's all alone in that big house. I hope not.

It's after five and I've got all three cockatiels out; Sugar's on my shoulder, Flash is sitting on Sugar's cage door, and little Nicholas is sitting by my side, watching me type. Charli is in her cage since she believes cockatiels should be personally removed from the universe.

I didn't go to the big downtown festivities this year; it's been too damp and dreary -- plus huge crowds wear me out. Besides, I've discovered and become addicted to hospital and emergency nursing blogs and could spend hours reading them.

Soon there will be the usual fireworks in the neighborhood and I'll have to deal with four little birds who get scared of the big booming noises. Ah well, it'll be over soon enough.

Friendship and Death

A friend of mine and her mother were killed Monday in a terrible auto accident. She left behind three parrots that were her pride and joy. Her father isn't that crazy about birds, so an ex-friend of mine said she'd take them until homes could be found -- which was a blessing. But it's not easy to find good homes for a parrot -- with people who know how to care for parrots and how to deal effectively with their behavior.

I saw on a listserv that an old friend of the deceased wanted one of the birds, only this person is known for mistreating her birds. My ex-friend knows this yet was encouraging on the listserv. I'm just broken hearted, first to lose my friend and then to think that one of her beloved parrots might be going to this inappropriate person.

We so desperately need a parrot rescue and adoption facility here; the nearest ones I'd trust a bird to are in North Carolina and Cleveland. I've talked to a couple of friends about opening a branch of a nationally known bird adoption center here, but none of us have the time or the money or can find enough people to make it work.

Today was time for Sugar Franklin's annual well-bird exam; she looks good, but we'll do blood work on Thursday (holiday messes up delivery times so we couldn't do it today). She's been sleepy and quiet since we got home. She's all tucked in and sound asleep now, like the other three.

Tonight some fool has been firing off fireworks here in the subdivision. Just noise and smoke. I imagine him (of course it's a man) standing in the street lighting these things and hoping everyone sees him, as if the noise and smoke and light are a direct indicator of his maleness. But it's just annoying and dangerous and stupid.

I keep wondering what those three parrots have been thinking -- their "mom" vanishing and then being moved from their home into a new place. We know parrots grieve, but we also know they're adaptable. I hope they'll be okay.

Hearts of Space

Sugar Franklin has laid four perfect cockatiel eggs and is sitting on them very hard this go-around. She bites if I go near her.

I'm taking all four parrots to the vet's tomorrow for feather and nail trims, so I'm going to take the eggs away from Sugar tonight. She'll just have to be mad.

I got a pay-as-you-go subscription to Hearts of Space today; it used to be on our local NPR station and I've missed it. It's a nice relief from rock n roll and everyday classical stuff. Kinda like background music in cult movies; transparent yet all-encompassing.

Speaking of which, I'll be starting piano lessons next week.

Hand Perches

I think I'm going to branch out in this blog. After all, there is only so much you can say about birds, and lord knows I've already said it twice. Maybe I can be as eloquent as incrementaldegrees.blogspot.com, only without the grad school.

It's been raining just a bit here; enough to require the windshield wipers but not enough to require an umbrella. We really need rain and lots of it. What we're getting now is a tease. The Farmer's Almanac said it'll be a dry winter and dry year next year, too.

Last night I had the birds out; Sugar on my shoulder
and Charli perched on my hand. I was holding my hand
out and continued to hold it out while Charli preened
and generally made herself comfortable. After awhile
my hand got tired, but I didn't want to disturb
Charli's ease.

Sugar would climb to my shoulder or down to my chest
and demand I pet her. But of course I can't pet her
correctly since she's still molting and all her
little feathers are pin ones.

The Bobbsey Twins climbed out of their cage and
perched themselves on the door of the cage. I still
can't figure out if they like each other or if their
hisses at each other are genuine dislike. I hope
they like each other, at least enough to preen one
another.

Finished Project

Finallly, finally I'm done with the BH book. It's small, but covers everything, and now rests in the hands of Avian Publications.

I was going to self-publish but it's such a hassle to do all that layout and design and marketing stuff, so I've got my fingers crossed Avian Publications will accept it as one of the their titles. Far less money that way, but far less aggravation and sleepless nights.

Keep your fingers crossed for me.

Now I'm ready to get my humor columns together; I am going to self-publish those in a book. As soon as I think up a title.