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Productive day, yet tiring. Muffin, having been moved out into the living room with Tiny and Moosie (but still in his own cage) is a smart little monster. He's already figured out how to do wolf-whistles (though he usually does wolf-chirps) but has been snurfling and having a bit of nasal discharge. Just enough to get us worried. So he's got a doc's appointment for Monday at 10. Because that's something we haven't done in almost a month.
Moosie has figured out when he whistles the first four notes of Beethoven's Fifth ("weet-weet-weet-wooo") that we'll let them all out. Typically he waits until 6 pm or so, when we're eating, and he'll gradually warm up with a few chirps and squawks and he'll occasionally miss ("weet-weet-wooo") or overdo it ("weet-weet-weet-weet-weet-weet-wooo"), but now he's taken to doing this at all hours of the day. And we still honor our little agreement. Tiny has forgotten how to do Beethoven, apparently, but does open his beak and let out a shrill honk every time Muffin ventures too close. There's a pecking order to be worked out -- or a bonking order, as Tiny tends to headbutt Muffin when he's in range.
So I cleaned their cages today. Muffin went into pinball mode, flapping and flailing and bouncing off everything in his cage when the vacuum got too close (Moosie and Tiny Moo are oddly unruffled by the Hoover effect). So he spent most of the cleaning session on my shoulder, where he'd rather be than the cage. Too cute.
My brother stopped by the other day, apparently now working for the city's code inspection division. It's winning him no friends. He's also getting married April 30. I should go, I guess. He's also got a new artificial leg, one that springs forward when he moves his thigh forward, so now he might be able to run for the first time since 1987. Ambitious, stubborn man. You can't not like him.
And I got Christmas prezzies. Tentacled, even. Pics to follow.
Moosie has figured out when he whistles the first four notes of Beethoven's Fifth ("weet-weet-weet-wooo") that we'll let them all out. Typically he waits until 6 pm or so, when we're eating, and he'll gradually warm up with a few chirps and squawks and he'll occasionally miss ("weet-weet-wooo") or overdo it ("weet-weet-weet-weet-weet-weet-wooo"), but now he's taken to doing this at all hours of the day. And we still honor our little agreement. Tiny has forgotten how to do Beethoven, apparently, but does open his beak and let out a shrill honk every time Muffin ventures too close. There's a pecking order to be worked out -- or a bonking order, as Tiny tends to headbutt Muffin when he's in range.
So I cleaned their cages today. Muffin went into pinball mode, flapping and flailing and bouncing off everything in his cage when the vacuum got too close (Moosie and Tiny Moo are oddly unruffled by the Hoover effect). So he spent most of the cleaning session on my shoulder, where he'd rather be than the cage. Too cute.
My brother stopped by the other day, apparently now working for the city's code inspection division. It's winning him no friends. He's also getting married April 30. I should go, I guess. He's also got a new artificial leg, one that springs forward when he moves his thigh forward, so now he might be able to run for the first time since 1987. Ambitious, stubborn man. You can't not like him.
And I got Christmas prezzies. Tentacled, even. Pics to follow.
