Night Fright
I'm glad this isn't a weekday; I've stayed home from work the next day for less. T$ woke me up saying "I think Gabe is flying around." I'm not sure how many time he had to say that to get a coherent response out of me. The first thing I see when I turn her light on and go to look is her flapping the hell around her cage - the new flight feathers are not always a boon. The next thing I see is red on her wing, and I call out to T$, "she's bleeding, if it's bad we're going to a vet." The large size of the new cage makes it difficult to grab her out, but after I do and towel her I figure out quickly that it's a pinfeather that she broke in her frenzy, and yell to T$ as he comes out of the bathroom to bring Q-tips. Good thing I've some styptic powder handy - yeah I know it's supposed to hurt more than flour or corn starch, but it works and it's what's in front of me. The fuzziness in my brain right now means I'd probably shove her bodily into a jar of flour - not good for either Gabe or our future baking endeavors - so I'll go with what I have. While patting the stuff onto the thingit I explain to T$ that no, we don't have to go to the e-vet, though if I can't get the blood to stop I'll have to find a pair of pliers. And now that the bleeding's stopped I'm sitting awake with her for a little while to make sure her fright's over and that she won't reopen the wound. Everything's going to be ok. She's preening just like it isn't 3:16 in the goddamned am. I think I can go back to sleep now.