We come in a distant second.

Because many aviculturists think that wing-clipping is inhumane and keep their birds fully flighted, they have to be very careful about open windows and doors. Now, our birds are fully flighted (or were) because I just can't stand to see them pathetically flapping their tiny wings and crashing into the baseboards because they try to fly and can only get about two feet before plunging to the ground and inevitably sliding across the wood floors and into the walls like hockey players on ice (but without the helmets or missing teeth). So, we kept both of them flighted and, while it was causing problems in that they both knew that they could get away from us and to each other with little effort, and there's nothing as hilarious as a tiny green bird navigating its way through the Christmas decor to get to its mate, we thought the tradeoff of seeing them fly through the Pottery Barn beady garland was worth it. Yes, I'm cruel.

One of our morning routines is to bring one of the birds into the bathroom while I'm showering and drying my hair. Stanze loves the blow dryer and it's a good time to work with her where she can't hear Fritz chirping for her and consequently get so agitated that she actually turns herself upside down screaming for him. I crack the window as the room is tiny and gets very hot, but I usually open the bottom, which is screened. Well, we left the top of the window open over night and I forgot to close it when I brought Stanze into the bathroom, and, on Monday, she made a mad dash for freedom. I don't think she quite realized how cold and wet freedom would be, though, and she only made it to the cedar tree in our backyard, where she eagerly hopped down branches until we could get her and bring her back in and dry her off with the low setting.

It was a terrible moment, seeing her little feathery form shoot out of the two inch opening. We both screamed like little girls and ran outside in the rain half naked. We took both of them to get clipped that day.

One unexpected benefit of this happening (and our isolation of her in the room next to the bedroom where she can't hear Fritz because the bite she gave him on Sunday was HORRIBLE) is that she now realizes that we are her FRIENDS and that we are not trying to steal her love to barbecue him. He wouldn't be very meaty, anyway. Christian was beside himself last night as she let him take her out of the cage without ripping off a finger. Below is proof.


We'll see how long it lasts.