
Across the way from the tarantulas lives my little finch family. They are getting a little cramped nowadays; I started with one rescue, bought her a friend, had some babies, gave some babies away, rescued one more. It's a family in constant turmoil.
I didn't like finches for a long time. I didn't really see the point in keeping what I considered to be a rather dimwitted, tiny, wild bird. You can't hold them. They don't generally consider you to be a friend. Reach in their cage to feed them and they dart about as if it's the end of the world and you are the fourth horseman. Panic! Mayhem!
Then I met Milly. She was my first finch. The pet store I worked at couldn't sell her because she was chronically bald. After several vet visits and a few months of medicating her in the back room and pumping her full of vitamins, the management gave up and gave her to me. I promptly went online, discovered lady gouldian finches need iodine, ordered some, and after a few months of dosing she looked like new. This satisfied me that she didn't have some horrible finch disease, so when the next bird fair rolled around we went and found her a companion, Vash. They set about laying eggs in the fancy box I also bought for them, until tragedy struck.
A visiting cat managed to knock down the entire cage somehow, and Vash was fatally injured by the time we found him. Milly was shaken but recovered. She's a tough little girl, and there was some evidence Vash may have valiantly led the cats away from his fallen nest and girlfiend. Rest in peace little guy.
We learned much from this, not the least of which was that no matter how sedate and trustworthy we deem our own feline companions to be, to never take that for granted. Certainly not with a visiting kitty. It wasn't her fault. She did what cats do.
At any rate, at the next bird fair we found her a new friend. Gouldians come in several color morphs, the most common being red head/green back/yellow belly/purple breast. This guy had a white breast instead. Apparently Milly found this suitable enough and within a few months they were sitting on eggs again.
The important thing with gouldians when they have eggs is not to disturb them. What happens if you disturb them? They in turn do disturbing things, such as flinging the little hatchlings out of the nest and leaving them to die. So for the next month I did nothing but change food and water and fight the urge to peek in the box. I admit I lost this fight a few times, but on the whole I behaved, and my reward was eventually 3 little green-gray fledgelings. After they went through their first molt (a tricky time in life; some don't make it), I kept one (his name is Oy), and gave two away to a friend.
So finally we make it to the point of this post; I have 3 lady gouldian finches, and 1 more that I acquired along the way. She's a little cordon blue that I adopted because she, too, was balding. She is smaller than the gouldians, but also faster. She was doing just fine until events conspired against her.
First, the local pet store was out of their usual seed -- they like a lot of white millet, and the only stuff they had was full of the black nyjer/thistle seed. Second, Oy has only recently gained quite a bit of confidence and taken to chasing her on occasion. I noticed today while handing out the millet that she was a little fluffy, and was actually leaning against Milly -- Milly normally is not tolerant of this kind of behavior. I caught the little blue girl (alas I have never found the right name for her), and she was far lighter than she should be.
When you weigh so little to begin with, any weight loss is bad.
She also tends to fluff up and sleep more than she should. This is cause for alarm in any bird. Fluffy and lethargic is red alert time.
She is now isolated in her own cage with lots of food and millet, my current theory being that she hasn't managed to get enough food what with this new mix and Oy being such a little pain. She'll get some extra vitamins and care, and maybe her own home permanently.
I hope I haven't caught it too late, but often by the time a finch is visibly not well, they are really on death's door. I did see her eating millet, so I will stay positive.
And if you're wondering, Oy is named for the part of the spectrum he represents -- somehow, out of my normal color female and white-breasted male, he is an orange-headed male. He's gorgeous. rOYgbiv :)