Busybody

After weeks of careful preparation, of location-scouting and paper-tearing, the time draws nigh: Polly the cockatiel is set to deliver a wee set of eggs in the not-too distant future.

It’s a little more than two years and two months since Polly became a girl, and it’s been almost that long since she laid her last clutch of eggs. Last spring, when she looked set to do it again, she was brutally thwarted in her efforts by YT, who cruelly carted her off to the vet to have her put on the pill. It certainly did the trick – no little cockatiel eggs emerged from Polly’s little belly – but on the other hand Polly grew depressed and ate incessantly until she became portly and rotund and and generally developed a bad case of the blues. When turned to for advice, the esteemed National Cockatiel Society sternly reprimanded YT for intervening in such a callous manner in Polly’s misguided reproductive efforts, so this time I have adopted a clear hands-off policy. Let the eggs fall where they may, as it were.

For the last couple of months, Polly has been exceedingly busy investigating potential nesting sites. She’s developed a particular weakness for the bottom of a corner shelf we have in the kitchen, behind a wicker basket that is the receptacle for our discarded newspapers. However, whenever she’s caught in the act the wicker basket is promptly removed, and consequently she’s wisely decided the bottom of the corner kitchen shelf is not the best place to raise her young. [NB: let it be clear that there will be no young in actual fact, since that would require the presence of a male cockatiel, and such a specimen is sadly absent in Polly’s case. But please don’t tell her because she’ll only get more depressed.]

Polly’s plan B is to set up nesting operations in the far right-hand corner at the bottom of her cage. She’s spent weeks now tearing the paper there to bits and hissing and screeching and generally being extremely pugnacious whenever anybody dares to stroll past. No matter how often the bottom of her cage is cleaned and the paper replaced, she refuses give up. Here’s a picture of Polly furiously trying to set things up again after the latest cagecleaning and being more than a little pissed at YT for pushing the photo apparatus in her general direction. Note the colour of her beak, dark from newspaper ink.

Now, I happen to know it’s Almost Time because a] she’s done this before, b] she slept on the bottom of her cage last night. Polly never sleeps on the bottom of her cage unless she’s got wee eggs to keep warm, or is expecting them to arrive at any moment. Plus – and this is where it gets kinda gross – I noted this morning that she’d gathered up a bunch of dried poops and was lying on them, like in the way she lay on those peanuts two years ago when she outed herself as a girl.

[You can believe that the bottom of the cage was cleaned this morning, pronto.]

So anyway. Spare a thought, will you? For Polly, who will probably lie on those babies for around three weeks with absolute devotion, before she finally gets her little brain around the fact that they’re not going to crack open to satisfy her maternal instincts. Booh.

MEANWHILE, WHAT DID THE WEATHER GODS BRING?
Rain, the likes of which we have not seen for years. Well, OK I do exaggerate. A little. But everyone is talking about the torrential downfalls we’ve seen so far this winter. It’s just been confirmed that there was a vast amount of precipitation in January – a lot more than usual. Although if you recall, the majority of that was in the form of the white stuff. We’re still experiencing balmy temps, though, currently... er, only 1°Centigrade? Oh. It was around 7 the last time I looked, a couple of hours ago. Sure got cold all of a sudden. Sunrise was at 10.05 and sunset at 17.19.