Sugar's Upcoming Appointment

Tomorrow I'm taking Sugar Franklin to the vet for a follow-up visit. She's had an impacted preen gland, which I only noticed by accident. If I hadn't noticed, I wonder how long it would have been before it began obvious. It hasn't seemed to hurt her or bother her in any way, though she was furious and quite indignant when I examined it. It hadn't seemed to affect her preening activity at all.

And she was even more angry and more indignant when I dared allow the avian vet to examine her. The vet gave me some medicated pads with which I was to daily dab at the gland, since there seemed to be some slight discharge. A week later, after daily dabbing, I took Sugar back for the first follow-up. The swelling had gone down a lot.

Now, a month later, her preen gland is back to normal -- well, as far as I can tell. Sugar has been preening as normal.

Last night, about an hour after I covered her, she made several whimpering chirps. I peered at her under the cover, and she was fine. Perhaps she was having a bad dream.

I definitely think parrots dream. There was a period when Charli was still a baby that she would settle in for a nap and practice talking. It was so cute and endearing I could barely stand it.

After-Work Attention

All five of us are in the study, where I pretend I’ll be able to get lots of work done after my “real” job.

Charli is perched on my shoulder, determined to protect me from errant fingers that might dare scratch my neck or rub my ear.

The two male cockatiels, i.e., The Bobbsey Twins, are on their play stand, staring out the window and occasionally picking at their Nutriberries.

They’ve all had rough molting periods this spring. Sugar Franklin has just flown over to my knee and begs for scritches. Her little feet are cold, and her head is full of new feathers that need preening.

I oblige because that a human’s job -- to obey all parrotly requests.
Dust, made up of dried keratin, floats out in the air.

Charli watches this for a few minutes, and then climbs from my shoulder to my chest. She looks up at me so sweetly I have to leave Sugar Franklin and work on Charli. Sugar Franklin fluffs out, and a cloud of cockatiel dust circles her body like a halo.

As I scritch Charli, tiny down feathers fall off and land on my shirt.
The Bobbsey Twins pretty much take care of their own preening. Flash doesn’t allow me to pet him at all, and Nicholas demands petting all the time. But since I only have two hands, Nicholas is pretty understanding that I can’t scritch him 24/7.

But I think I would if I could.