Budgie adventures.... The daring escape

[fajrdrako]

The adventures happened because I decided, in a momentary fit of good housekeeping, to scrub out the trays at the bottom of the bird cages.

I scrubbed the tray from Pryde and Kaylee's cage, no problem. Put it back in.

I scrubbed the tray from the cage belonging to Wisdom, Simon and Domino, and next thing I knew Simon was flying around the room. Somehow the little devil had managed to squeeze his whole body through the tiny space where the tray fits into the cage. So there he was, flying around with glee, delighted by his daring escape.



With various variations, this has happened before. Wisdom was the prime escape artist, and she got out of the cage a time or two in ways I've never been able to figure out. Last time it happened I swore they would have a life sentence with no hope of parole and never get out again. I didn't keep my word, but I've been letting them out less often than before.

And Simon didn't like it. A bird has to fly, he tells me. A little guy needs freedom. I should have named him Jack Sparrow.

This was the point at which I made a serious strategic mistake. I put the tray back in and opened the door so Simon could go back into the cage. See, when you have three budgies in one cage, it's practically impossible to get them all back in at the same time. All known strategies - bribery, cursing, bread crumbs and butterfly nets - have essentially failed. The only strategy that works is to wait until the birds all want to be back in their cage - a matter of nerve-wracking days or weeks. Having birds outside their cage when I go to work, you see, is dangerous: they can get into all sorts of trouble, potentially fatal trouble. I'd rather not even think about the mess they could make.

I figured Simon, who's pretty savvy, could find his own way back into the cage, so I wasn't too worried. Wisdom was busy sitting on eggs, and Domino is too little to fly.

Wrong.

Next thing I knew, Domino was flying to the curtain rods, and looking pretty happy with his accomplishments.

Next thing I knew, Domino was falling behind the curtains, with much squawking and flapping. I moved the curtain so he could fly out. He circled the room a few times, landed on picture frames, closet doors, lamps and finally on the curtain rods. Then fell behind the curtain. I moved the curtain - insert loop here.

I got tired of the game very soon and figured that Domino could pick himself up from behind the curtain all by himself next time. I went to wash some dishes.

When I came back, Domino had disappeared.

The birds were all silent. Simon was sitting on top of the cage, looking pensive. Domino was nowhere in sight.

I remembered how once, when she was young, Pryde had managed to sqeeze herself through a postage-stamp space in the bookshelf and disappear behind books. I checked all bookcases. Domino hadn't done that.

He didn't chirp or skreech or flap. Did that mean he was hurt? Not necessarily. An angry budgie makes a hell of a racket, but a frightened budgie goes for the nearest tiny hole and goes perfectly silent - a strategy against coyotes, I think.

There are no coyotes in my apartment. From the strange silence, you'd think there were no budgies either, for a little while there.

My bedroom, bathroom and kitchen had tightly closed doors. Yes, Pryde and Wisdom got into the kitchen once or twice, and that was an adventure or two that will not bear repeating. So I know he wasn't there. And he couldn't be outside the apartment. But where was he?

"Chirp loudly, little guy!" I said, and Simon obligingly said, "Chirp" from the top of his cage. Domino said nothing.

Wisdom was alone on her eggs in the nesting box, looking annoyed to be bothered. He oldest son had just run away from home - well, understandably, the eggs are her main concern right now.

I phoned my friend Marcelle on the ninth floor. "I can't find Domino!"

"I'll be right down," she said.

She came down with a flashlight (intrepid and practical) and we hunted. Behind furniture. Behind bookcases. Under sofas - where there's barely space for a piece of paper, but if a budgie can get through the space where the cage-tray fits, anything is possible. We found mostly dust, a few lost pens - no little green and yellow bird. We even checked out the air conditioning vents with a flashlight.

I found the little guy finally. He'd crammed himself into an infinitesimal space between a box of paper, my computer, and my computer desk, a space so tiny it was guaranteed safe from coyotes. I am considerably bigger than a coyote. When I finally got him where I could (theoretically) pick him up, he eluded me and flew back into the room, where he tried to hide under a sofa cushion. I moved the cushion, covered him with a napkin, picked him up, and put him bodily into the cage.

Then I waited for Simon to go back in. I thought Domino would be too tired to go back outside - and I think I was right, because he didn't try to, but he did work off a lot of excess energy by running in his hamster wheel for a while. I shouldn't have named him Domino, I should have named him Wally West. (A fine Michael Rosenbaum reference.)

Half an hour later, Simon wandered back into the cage and I snapped the door shut behind him. Hah!

I covered the cages, but they didn't go to sleep like good budgies. There was a lot of muttering and chirping from under the covers. I think Domino was telling the story of his expedition into the further corners of the world.

I'm never going to let them get out again. Never.

Comments

[dargie.livejournal.com]

I shouldn't be laughing, but honestly, that was pretty funny reading. Speaking as a woman who has lost CATS inside a 6-room apartment, all I can say is that I can't even imagine loosing a baby budgie; I'd never find the little sucker in here. Glad all turned out well.

[fajrdrako.livejournal.com]

Yes, it's amazing how something as brightly-coloured as a budgie can become invisible when they hide. You'd think it was impossible.

You'd think cats and budgies would be poles apart in just about every way, but I can see similarities in personality - for instance, in being stubborn and liking to get their own way.

[dargie.livejournal.com]

Small dogs tend to be like this, too. Odd, isn't it? And I think they're all just hilariously funny and endearing.

[fajrdrako.livejournal.com]

Yes, and just like us. I see a lot of similarities in personality from one species to the next - so much so that I find it amazing how some people fail to see the humanity in animals and vice versa.

[dargie.livejournal.com]

I think they don't want to. Life is easier if everything is disposable.

[fajrdrako.livejournal.com]

Good answer. Denial is everything, for some.