Finch Fest

Yummy Finch Feather

What is it about zebra finches when they lose a wing feather? Randy's tan mate Lynn is young, about five months or so old, but even she did it the other day.

One of her wing feathers fell out and she picked it up off the floor like she'd found a prize. All excited, she maneuvered it around in her beak until she had it by the bottom end, then she chomped on it like she was sucking juice out of it or something. I don't know what the purpose of this is, but I've seen finches do it so often it no longer surprises me.

Lynn added her own little twist. When I thought she was done and would either drop the feather or put it into a nesting house, she maneuvered it around in her beak again. This time she slipped it through her beak from one end to the other. It looked like the roller of a typewriter in the hands of a speedy typist. I half expected a "ding" when she reached the end.

I had to admire the tongue action. It was like someone eating corn on the cob in a race at a county fair, but with no hands.

Was she in search of more flavor? Or is this snatching up a feather, parading it around and chomping on it how finches say goodbye to a lost wing feather? Like a person might give an old favorite worn-out pair of jeans a sad, loving goodbye before trashing them? I'm just asking.

Bad Boy Finch

Clay came home again. He wore out his welcome in 24 hours!

The first thing Lucille noticed upon his arrival was how much more noise there was in the bird room. She thought she could handle that, but his relentless pursuit of Little Girl led to her squealing once the next day. We don't know if he hurt her or he worked her last nerve, but that was no good.

While pursuing Little Girl, he managed to tell everyone he was boss of the world and chased them away from all "his" cages. This kept the entire flock unsettled.

The final kicker came when the quiet society finches ventured from their little wooden house on the wall. They wanted to eat, drink, bathe. Clay wouldn't let them! He chased them away from the bath dish and out of every cage they entered in search of food. Lucille shut him up in a cage by himself, beyond fed up with him.

Meanwhile, I noticed how quiet my house was without him. I hadn't realized how much of a Mr. Mouth he was until he was gone. I brought him back and he settled right down again. The next day he slept a lot--likely wore himself out being such a royal pain in the tush.

Lucille's flock settled back down to their usual playful doings the minute Clay was out of there. It's always interesting to us to see how a bird changes behavior according to which home he lives in, who his companions are, and whether he flies free or is caged. Or even which room they live in. Finches are little birds with some big opinions. We sometimes wonder who's boss, them or us. Ha! Who am I kidding? Finches rule.