Protect them from me.

I am a curse.  I am a jinx, a plague, a blight, a scourge.  Pierre has now injured his wing, and it's completely my fault.  He's in a round Rubbermaid container to keep him from having a place to strop his beak and reopen his injury, and that container was on top of the secretary in the bird room.  The cord for the heating pad underneath was hanging down in front, and the secretary must have been too full, as the front door opened, pulling his container down with it.  He sprained his wing in the fall, and the joint is swollen.  The vet is closed until tomorrow, but the doctor isn't in until Tuesday, so we're going to give him cayenne pepper as a natural anti-inflammatory until we can get him in.  He can still use the wing, he's holding it slightly away from the body, as I don't think the inflammation will allow him to close it completely.  

I don't know what more I could possibly do to that little bird.  We didn't separate him and Fritz and he received his beak injury, we didn't anticipate that he would continue to try and clean his beak and he repeatedly reopened his injury, and now I actually caused an injury to him, directly.  I should be forcibly separated from the birds.  I shall henceforth be known as Typhoid Suzy.