The genius who always does as he's told who he lives with me broke my bird cage. I had a spare, but it's small and doesn't have much in the way of perches or swings. I did manage to rescue the two birds before the cats did. I managed to rig the cage and get them in long enough to clean the spare and transfer them over. I had some field work to do on Monday, so I put a request out on Facebook asking my friends about secondhand and salvage stores that might carry a cage. I had checked both local papers, and an online classified as well as Ebay and some online stores. I found a couple of cheap used ones, but not close. The price was right even with the drive, but it would be Friday before I could do that. I hated to leave them in that little cage that long. Incidentally if anyone ever tells you a cockatiel is harmless little songbird, I have some bloody bites on my hands to prove them wrong. My facebook connection resulted in my cousin setting me up with a cage from my aunt. I was actually able to walk to get it. It wasn't much bigger than my spare, but the space was better and the cage was arranged better for feeding and changing the paper.




He obeys so well. He's scared of bees, and usually runs from them. Today while weedeating, I see him running and swatting. When I investigate I find out he's chasing the bumblebees. I tell him to stop before he gets stung. Five minutes later, he's doing it again. I tell him to stop again. Later when I send him outside to give myself a time out over the cage, i see him doing it again. I'm a bit angry so I decide to leave him alone. I figure if he catches one, he'll figure out why they don't make good pets. Then when we walk out to get the new cage, it's twilight, the time of day not the sparkly vampire movie, and he takes off running across the the plowed field. He falls. I tell him not to run in the dark. He runs off again and falls. I ask if he broke anything. "No, I landed on my butt, but I hit my head." "Well at least it wasn't anything you use."