Ruffle My Feathers

No one told me, when I bought my canary that:

1. The bird needs a bath every day.
2. The bird needs to fly every day.
3. The bird needs vitamins every day.
4. The bird needs fresh fruits and veggies every day.
5. The bird needs calcium.
6. The bird needs toys.
7. The bird needs music.
8. The bird needs fresh newspaper on his floor every day.

One other crucial thing they left out was this: molting. No one told me the bird would lose all his feathers every summer.

Last summer his feathers started popping out and onto the floor. Little green fuzz here, gray fuzz there. No biggie.

Then he started shedding like a dog.

All his back feathers came out, one by one. I could have made a pillow with what was on the floor. (Could you imagine if this were an eagle, a kookabora?) His leg feathers. His chest feathers. After two months of this, I thought it was over. Then he woke up one morning with no tail feathers. All six of 'em long tail feathers lying on the daily newspaper.

"Whoa!" I said, grabbing my face. He didn't look like a bird anymore--just a bird body with floof at his backside. You'd think he couldn't fly in this condition, but I let him out for his daily exercise, and he did fly. Which made me wonder why he needed the things at all.

In a few days his new tail feathers grew in. Instead of being black and white striped, the inner four feathers were solid white this time, and the two outers were black. An interesting new design from his DNA.

So then I thought it was over. And one morning I woke up and the bird did not greet me from the cage. It was this creature from the worst horror film--a ball of green fuzz with black spikes growing out of its head. Now I was really alarmed, not just for the birdie, but for my own safety.

This was his one and only vet visit. The vet looked at him and said he was molting.

"I know he's molting," I said. "But what's that?" I said, pointing at its head.

"It's just a bad molt. You should've given him more parsely and kale."

I guess I should have known that from the list of info not given me at the date of purchase.

So the vet charged me $75 for this bit of advice and a birdie manicure.

In a few days the ugly black spikes turned to wispy green feathers, and the bird looked normal again. I breathed a great sigh and decided to love the bird again.

Needless to say, I have fed that thing parsley like that's all there is to eat, this summer, to keep from getting horrified. And so far so good. He looks beautiful. And he's happy, even though he's falling apart.

It turns out there's oil in the feathers that helps birds fly. It dries out every year, so birds grow new feathers. Now, how do they know to do that?

One of my clients is a scientist. One day I asked him why so many scientists believe in evolution, when it's clear even the smallest microbe has a design.

"Actually, more and more scientists are now considering the possibility of intelligent design," he said. "The more we study, the less we can get around it."

My birdie, who is currently too busy singing his lungs out, would concur.