Birdy

this reason, the bird breeder removes the eggs as they are laid. He puts them back when the whole clutch is finished. He puts a fake egg, or a marble, in as a replacement for each egg taken, so the bird doesn’t get discouraged and abandon the nest.
    I have my fake eggs ready on Thursday morning. Birdie’d slept in the nest the past two nights and this is supposed to be a sure sign. I have oil and cotton ready in case she gets egg bound. The books say sometimes a young female can’t pass her egg easily and tenses so the egg can’t get out. This can kill the bird. When this happens, you drop warm olive oil on the vent and massage it gently with a cotton swab until the muscles relax and the egg is delivered.
    That morning I put fresh food and egg mash on the floor of the aviary. I’d been feeding them egg mash since the mating. It’s made of hard-boiled egg mashed in with pablum. Both Birdie and Alfonso really like it. As soon as she smells it, Birdie comes down for some. I go into the aviary and look into the nest. There’s an egg. I’m so nervous I’m afraid to take it out. I take deep breaths to calm myself. I have a teaspoon ready and I reach in carefully to slip it under the egg. I lift it out rolling, my hand shaking and lower it onto a cotton nest I’ve made in a small dish. I quickly put the fake egg in the nest. I’ve been keeping it in my hand to warm it. I know Birdie is too smart to be fooled by a cold marble.
    Birdie has flown up to the nest while I’m doing all this. She’s watching me suspiciously. She queeps her most plaintive queep and that doesn’t help my nerves at all. After I’ve put the fake egg in, she hops on the edge of the nest, seems satisfied and lowers herself over it. My forehead and hands are covered with sweat. I carry the dish with the egg in it carefully out of the aviary.
    The egg is beautiful. I put the dish on the window sill and look at it. The shell is a pale blue-green and there are tiny reddish-brown spots. The spots aren’t blood marks, they’re real spots. The spots aren’t dark, more like pale freckles. Against the light, I can seethrough the shell and pick out the outline of the yolk. It’s amazing to think there’s a beginning bird in there; that the feathers and the beak and the flying are in the egg. I wish I could be in there myself and be born again as a bird. I wish I could live in that nest and be warmed under Birdie’s feathers and be fed by her and snuggle with my brothers and sisters, feeling my wings getting stronger and my feathers growing.
    Birdie doesn’t sit tight on the first egg, but she sticks close to the nest and Alfonso spends a good part of his time with her in the cage. The next morning there’s a second egg. It’s a slightly darker blue than the first one. Now, Birdie settles in. The whole of the next afternoon she only gets off the nest once. Alfonso brings food to her but her body needs calcium to develop the new eggs so she flies down and nibbles on the cuttlebone. Alfonso not only feeds her, he stands beside the nest and sings to her. Now and then he fucks her on the nest. I’m not sure if this is going to hurt the eggs she’s carrying or not. I consider closing the cage door, with Birdie in it, to keep Alfonso away but decide against it.
    The next morning there’s a third egg. It looks more like the first one but has fewer spots. It’s longer and thinner too. Each time, I put in a false egg. The book says one is enough to keep a hen on the nest but I’m sure either Birdie or Alfonso can count to four. Now, when Birdie flies down to eat or exercise, Alfonso sits on the eggs. First, I see him standing on the edge of the nest looking in when Birdie’s away and I’m afraid he’s going to lean in and try eating the eggs. This is not completely uncommon with canary birds. I’m feeding them hen eggs and there isn’t that much difference. The book says that if by some chance an egg gets broken, it should be removed at once, to keep the birds from eating it. Once a bird starts eating eggs, it’s useless for breeding.
    After the fourth egg, I put the whole clutch back in and mark it on my calendar. The eggs are supposed to hatch thirteen days after I put them in. The next morning I’m surprised to see Birdie’s laid a fifth egg. Usually a canary only lays from two to four eggs, especially a young female like Birdie.
    Now begins the long wait. I think the two weeks will never pass.I begin to get jumpy and nervous about