The Sorrows of Young Werewolf (eyeteeth) wrote,
The Sorrows of Young Werewolf
eyeteeth

I'm a terrible chick sexer!

When I got home from therapy the chick was not in her box. It took me a couple of minutes of crawling around the apartment, feebly imitating a sparrow chirp in the hope of eliciting a response, to find her sitting bright-eyed and perfectly silent behind my desk. So, uh, guess someone can fly a little. Surprise! Also, I think that took a week off my life.

Remember how I said she was packing away the protein without doing anything? She was gearing up for today's feats. Not only did she start making short little flutters -- getting as far as the bottom of the tub to the rim! -- but she showed a sudden interest in perching, an important component of bird life in which she had hitherto been uninterested, and when I picked her up from behind the desk -- Pardon me, but you appear to be hitting my arm with your face. Yes, it was an attempt at pecking, a behavior I had not until then seen her exhibit. That's the trifecta of important bird skills, all beginning on the same day! What's more, she immediately saw the value of combining the first two, and spent some time fluttering from Perch A to Perch B like a gymnast practicing for a competition. Which is not that far off from the truth, really.

Also, is that the beginnings of a black bib I spy? If it is, I've been using the wrong pronouns.

In conclusion, I was up until six-thirty this morning editing a fantasy novel set in ancient Egypt and then up again at eleven to edit an article about revolution in modern Egypt and then I went to therapy and had feelings and tomorrow's stix will have to wait until I've spent some time unconscious. No, I don't plan to make a habit of it. (That was me talking to myself.)
Tags: animals, urban wildlife
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