This morning, astro-Bird woke up with a good appetite. I fed him 11 seeds and four and a half drops of water. He was screeeeeing happily. Maybe he was feeling better? But now Peter thinks something might be wrong with astro-Bird. He says he seems grouchy. And possibly feverish. Peter crushed up a tiny part of an aspirin to have on hand just in case. I really don't think aspirin would help. It could even make things worse, so we're not going to use it for now. I have gotten too attached to this creature, and I have a very bad feeling about this. I lost an eyelash today and made a most appropriate wish on it.

      Astro-Bird seems to want to eat fewer seeds, but he wants them more often. The last feeding didn't go all that well. After we put him back in his nest, he threw up three seeds. He's never done that before. But on a brighter note, he pooped in my hand today.

      Tuesday night and the food of dying birds...

come come why we call him astro-bird
about the spaceship
the ejections

conceived, written, drawn, and nurtured by susan m. brackney
designed by wes modes
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