I started last night in cleaning out the bird cage. I have replaced all the wooden perches in the cage except for one: the rest are natural branches along with one perch that has grit on it to keep the nails trimmed. Everything has either been washed in hot water and soap and thoroughly rinsed or, in the case of the cage bars themselves, I scrubbed them with alcohol and now all is drying under the A/C vent in my craft room. At present I am soaking the contents and the bars of the carry box and will clean the plastic portion and the handle with alcohol. I've cleaned out the shelves under the cage, but need to wipe those down with alcohol and also vacuum around the bookcase so I don't flake any new bird out with a vacuum cleaner around his cage. Pidgie was never sure what to make of the vacuum, but he wasn't afraid of it; Bandit just yawned when Willow broke out into a salvo of barks every time I used it, as if to say "Chill, sis, it's just the bizippy thing."

It's a depressing job as well as an expectant one. There's so much that goes into making a new little bird comfortable: quiet sound, easy movements, gentle talk, those few weeks when you think the poor guy will never get used to you, the timid ordeal of finger taming, and that first heart-stopping time you let them out of the cage (although I will admit it's easier when they have their wings clipped—I always remember Pip, who would throw himself from the door platform with the calm assurance that Mommy would field him, as if he were a small feathered softball).

It was cloudy at lunchtime, so I popped on my hat, stockings and shoes and took Willow completely around the neighborhood. It was muggier than I expected and I came inside feeling drenched. She did enjoy it, though, since we haven't been out since before Pidge "flew away."

Labels: birds, pets

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. . . . . noted and logged by Linda at 2:58:00 PM

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