Today, hubby came a little too fast down the stairs and startled the daylights out of Miss Vi–or, “Viola Valkyrie Waddlesworth”, as we’re now calling her.
Pretty sure her being dubbed with three names means we’re keeping her… But I digress.
Miss Vi went FLYING across the room (note to self: get wings clipped PRONTO), only to find herself trapped between our washer and dryer, wings spread wide and body twitching awkwardly.
This, it turns out, was a golden opportunity for trust building.
I, in my blind desperation to save her from a potentially harmful situation, forgot my fear of her beak, and she wanted nothing more than to be rescued–so without any fear on her part or mine, Viola stepped right on up; I spoke soothingly to her, walked her back to her cage, and returned her to her comfortable perch.
Our other fids seem perfectly content; Louie continues to obliviously court my foot, Ozone has discovered the bell on his stand, and the tiny ones have learned to tolerate each other–well, Winston really doesn’t have a choice.
All is well here at the Pampered Flock! =)