Live from Austin!

Once Chester had finished his molt, he began growing new a lot of new feathers. This included his flight feathers.

The flight feathers are the outermost 6 feathers on the trailing edge of each wing. When the bird has his wings folded on his back, they stick out at the bottom . If the flight feathers are clipped back so that they no longer protrude beneath the wing when it’s folded, then when the wing is unfolded the bird can’t gain enough lift to gain altitude.

In other words: with clipped flight feathers, a budgie can fly downwards, but can’t fly up. A bird with a full set of flight feathers is referred to as "flighted".

The question of whether a companion bird should be flighted is somewhat controversial . It’s said that being flighted makes a bird more confident. On the other hand, a house can be a dangerous place for a fully flighted bird.

My feeling was that so long as Chester’s flying didn’t become problematic, and he continued to be well behaved enough that we could keep him safe, he could keep his flight feathers.

Sadly, it didn’t work out that way. Last week his flight feathers got long enough that he was able to demonstrate his ability to fly up to ceiling level. When he landed on the floor, I bent down and offered my hand so he could step up to safety, which he had been trained to do and had always done in the past. He gave me a look as if to say "Screw you, human, I can fly !" and took off.

He flew around the kitchen. He flew into the utility room. He flew back out onto the windowsill above the sink. It became clear that he could easily end up on top of the kitchen cabinets, down the back of the fridge, behind the washing machine, or in the sink disposal. This was not good for him or us.

So regretfully, we took him to the vet and had his wings clipped again. It is, of course, a totally painless process. He was fluffing his feathers and enjoying the car ride by the time we were driving home. But for the time being at least, he’s grounded. He can make short hopping flights, but no soaring around the ceiling fan.

Ironically, he loves his cage so much that if we were willing to let him spend his life in the cage, he probably wouldn’t make any effort to come out, and we could let him stay flighted. It’s because we want him to come out and have a rich and stimulating life that he needs to be clipped for the time being.

Would you like to see some video of Chester enjoying his disco ball?

Chester the parakeet has been molting for several weeks now. Shortly after he started, I decided to collect the feathers. A pillow is out of the question, but I think I want to put them on a black background and photograph them. It’s quite amazing how many feathers a small bird can shed; at the worst point, about 20 per day.

Molting is a tough time for birds, and the process has made him itchy and cranky. He basically wants to be left in his cage, and has even pecked at my hand when I’ve taken him out. I’m a bit conflicted–since he wants to be left alone, maybe I should do that, but everything I read tells me that parakeets need out-of-cage time every day.

It might help if he was interesting in bathing. Yes, budgerigars are desert birds, but would it kill him to take a bath at least once a week? Mind you, today I misted him from a squirt bottle and he actually seemed to be into it for a while, or at least he didn’t climb the walls to get away from the water like he used to.

Chester just ate from my hand for the first time.

The parakeet now has a name: Chester.

Because of his subdued and distinguished colors, we wanted a name that suggested seriousness. However, it also had to suggest clownish sillyness, because that’s what they’re like as birds.

Some rejected names: McNugget, Griffy, Steve, Bruce. (The last two because budgerigars were originally Australian birds.)

He’s starting to be a lot more cooperative about being taken out of the cage, even when it’s to squirt antibiotics in his beak. He also happily jumps onto my hand when I catch him running across the floor, but he still tries to fly around. Yesterday he seemed a lot happier and more alert, singing a little during the day and apparently watching the TV with us. He also likes to sit with me by the back windows and look at the yard.

At the weekend we bought him a fuzzy bird bed. I wasn’t sure he would use it, but this morning he shuffled out of it with bed head–a fluffy feather poking out from his head. Now he’s done his morning stretching exercises, and is cheeping at me to put some music on.