He almost always has an injured paw, and it's always the same one... he bats at wasps.... then limps around trying to get people to feel sorry for him.
When he runs out of food, he whines and cries until we give him more... he usually has plenty, so it's not like he's starving!
Last night I went downstairs right before dinner to get a can of fruit, and I noticed some strange stuff all over the floor. I turned on the light to see what it was and this is what I found:
In case you can't tell... feathers. FEATHERS!!! IN MY HOUSE! Which led me to search for the source, afraid I was going to find something that just doesn't belong in my house!Yep, I found it:
I screamed of course, because I'm me. And yelled for Jason as I ran up the stairs.
I'm so lucky I have such a wonderful husband who took care of this little problem. I hardly want to touch pet birds, I don't have it in me to touch wild birds.... uuggghhh.
Jason even cleaned up the feathers and blood (sorry I'm being graphic) and threw away the bathmats, which obviously needed to be replaced before the bathroom even turned into a bird cemetery. (Now it's highly justifiable to get different ones.) Except I can't go shopping this week because Jason stole my car because he sold his. Grrrr. I'm lucky I have so many other blessings to focus on.....
