late monday night...

      Wes and I came home late tonight because we were working on this very website. When we got in, I checked on astro-Bird. He seemed sort of hungry, so I got out the millet and started to feed him. Wes took some photos so that you could see what feeding astro-Bird looks like. But things weren't going all that well. The millet was rolling all over the place and astro-Bird didn't really have an appetite even though he should have. (His crop was clearly empty.) When I put him back in his can, his leg started twitching wildly. I thought maybe he was going to die then and there.

      Peter wasn't home, but I knew he was just across the street at his brother's house. I called him and begged him to come home to see the bird-baby. He said he's fine, and he sounded like he really didn't want to come home all that much. But maybe he could tell me, "Oh, that. He always does that." Or, "He had so much to eat today that he's probably just extra tired trying to digest it all." "He's fine," and especially, "He's probably fine" did nothing for me. I begged him more. Peter decided to come home, and he looked in on astro-Bird, then he said, "He's fine." Then he went back to his brother's house. Astro-Bird fell asleep and I watched him for a while and then I fell asleep.


why we call him astro-bird · about the spaceship · the ejections · millet · days · home

conceived, written, drawn, and nurtured by susan m. brackney
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