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10 July 2015

190/365

Life. You just can't make these stories up.

We sat around the dining room table, eating and reading and tapping notes on the computer and doing other ordinary everyday things on an ordinary Thursday afternoon. The birdcage hangs in the corner of the room. The birds are nearly always making noise of some sort- chattering at themselves and  prattling at us, rustling around, squeaking the cage. But this flutter sounded a bit different. If we didn't know better, you might think that little WALL-E was making a suicidal plunge from the nest. He hung by the green string upside down, flapping about. His faithful caretaker jumped to the cage and nestled him and removed him from his plight. But a piece of yard remained, tightly entangled around his foot.

Oh, motherhood! The surprises you offer! Today it was to play surgeon to a little finch. While Sarah firmly but gently cuddled our annoyed bird friend, pecking at her the entire time, I used tiny sewing scissors to remove the string from his tarsometatarsus (yes, I looked that up). And then we set him back in his home. The normally feisty and bit cantankerous Taeniopygia guttata (yes, I looked that up, too) remained on his perch the rest of the day, obviously a bit stunned by the events of the afternoon. But, we believe he'll be fine. And with a story to share with EVE and M-O. 

Life. You just can't make these stories up.

(photo note: yes, I had to take a picture before the procedure began. See the string on his foot?)

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