I'm Sorry, Flute

It's been a couple months since one of the male zebra finches died.(see previous post) Since then, even more changes in their little world.

The three remaining birds carried on, but I have waffled back and forth ever since over if we lost Andre II (Deuce) or Brut. I have been 100% sure that Deuce survived, because once the males started to sing again I thought it sounded familiar. Then, due to body size and the way the song seemed incomplete, I was positive that his boy Brut was still with us.

Yesterday I counted spots on the tails, and told David that Deuce was the survivor, because he had always had the most spots on the left side of his tail, and Brut the fewest. I was sure right up until I hear Corky saying toby-toby-toby, and while he sat still I counted HIS tail spots. Rats! Now I'm back to being unsure, not that it matters a whit.

In the meantime, the threesome didn't care who was whom, they just got along and and kept being sociable. Still no overt mating behavior, but it seemed like the two males were starting to be agitated with each other around the ever beautiful Flute, so I decided it was time for another female to join the group (and stir the gene pool in case things did get cozy...)

The new girl was brought home in February, and she was dubbed "Sparkling", nickname Sparkles (a name given earlier to one of the hatchlings before 'she' turned out to be a 'he'.) She rode home in her cage, looking supremely confident and keeping her feathers puffed. After a short while with her new family, she had another nickname: Miss Piggy. Wow, can she eat! Interesting how such a small bird with a such a tiny beak can appear to be wolfing down food as she stomps around in the seed bin.

Sparkles

Sparkles and Flute, having declared a short treuce

Anyhoo, she was one of the gang within a few days. She and Flute had the expected female tiffs, the boys duked it out over their choice of mate, and they settled into two couples: Flute & Brut (?), and Sparkles & Corky. All was well for a short time, until one terrible Monday morning.

I came in to open up the blinds and change the bird water and found Flute on the bottom of the cage, not moving. She was alert, but laying down and not flying away. I noticed tiny white feathers on the left side of the cage, and immediately recognized that she had been attacked from the outside. One of our cats, *Bill or *Mango, had apparently gone in the craft room at night, caught Flute too near the cage wall, and done bad things.

I felt horrible because I had been leaving the door to the room open, naively thinking that since I hadn't seen cats near the birds they weren't interested, and everything had been fine as-is for over a year.

Poor, poor beautiful Flute. One of her pretty white wings was mostly gone, and one of her legs was badly damaged. She was so brave and strong though; she kept trying to work her good wing and stand up, but to no avail. With David's help I transferred her into the small cage we keep for transport. Because she was still alive and alert (when you'd think most small birds would have died from the shock) we gave her a slim chance of recovering, but at the very least she needed a place to rest peacefully.

David was off work that week, so he watched over her that Monday. He said she moved around a bit with her good leg and wing, ate a little and had apparently made it to the water dish.

The little trooper was still awake when I got home, and to clean her wound I used a water mister to rinse the area. Before bedtime, I held her cage up to the other birds, and she actually peeped out a greeting. Sadly, those would be her last sounds. She died overnight, and taught me a valuable, heartwrenching lesson about protecting tiny, innocent birds from their enemies.

Not only did I start shutting the door, we immediately began making plans for David to build an indoor aviary. Something that would give the birds freedom to fly and move around; keep them safe from cats and dogs; and make it easier for me to watch their antics.

I'm happy to report we brought our vision to life, but since I've been so long-winded in this post you'll have to wait for another to see the finished product and read about the details.

P.S.  We did bring home another female to make sure both males were occupied, but more on her later when we're back on the happy side of things.

*Bill: Our gray, one-eyed, deaf male cat. He hasn't made an appearance in the "Journal" section of this blog yet.

*Mango: Our reddish and white male cat; a rescued stray we adopted from the SPCA to be a barn cat, but immediately ran off for several months. More on him later.