Ann Margaret made the song famous in the 1963 movie musical of the same name. (Most folks these days just know it from a short scene in Mad Men).
Bye bye Birdie
I'm gonna miss you so
Bye bye Birdie
Why'd ya have to go?
My little orphan Cut Throat chick has no where to go. Such a sad tail of woe, given he was the chosen one (ie the only survivor of multiple clutches). Since I do not want incest among my Cut Throats, and I fear they being red necks that may not be an issue with them, I needed to find him a new home. So I was on a mission.
I had stopped by a pet store in Columbia I knew sold finches. They were interested in procuring him but first I needed to speak with the owner who would not be in until the following Tuesday. I got her name and phone number and went home. My DH and I discussed the situation and the pet store. I was not happy about the way they kept their cages - or rather didn't. They were filthy. My birds are used to an extremely clean cage. The final verdict was to move on to Plan B.
Plan B was a pet store in Charlotte we had visited a year ago that was immaculately clean and knew a lot about keeping finches. Going all the way to Charlotte to deliver one little finch seemed a bit much but I wanted to make sure he was taken care of. Money was not really the issue, a safe home for the chick was.
In the mean time I removed the chick from the flight cage and put him a smaller cage in my office next the Owl Finches who were still in quarantine until the end of May. At least I could get him out of the communal cage. He was not a happy camper. I'd give him a day to settle down.
The following morning, I found him frantically flying from one side of the cage to the other trying to get to the Owls. Since he had never been alone, that made sense. After watching him for a while, against my better judgement, I moved him into the cage with the Owls. I would rather take a chance having him be exposed to any random disease they may have than beat himself to death in the smaller cage.
That seemed like a good idea until I checked back on the three of them and saw he was terrorizing the Owls. Every time the Owls tried to eat from a dish, drink, or bath the Cut Throat would swoop in and shoo them off. It wasn't long before the two little Owls were huddled together on the end of a perch looking at me with this, "Please save us" look.
So Jr. was relocated back into the communal cage - back to square one.
Then my DH announced one morning he would be going to visit that pet store in Charlotte and would be glad to take the Cut Throat for me. I called the shop and spoke with someone. They indicated they were interested, but once again I needed to speak with their manager who would be in later. I packed my feathered chick in a carrying cage and sent him on with my DH, relieved he was going to a responsible shop that would take care of him and see that he went to a good home.
As my DH drove out of the drive, it suddenly dawned on me, why was my DH going to the pet store? Maybe I should start looking for books lying around the house on an exotic animal I was not familiar with. Or see if there was some new cage or critter compound stashed in a corner. Rather than all that, I just went into Ostrich mode and put my head into the sand. From years of experience I found it easier to adopt the "Ignorance is bliss policy". Then if I happened to walk in the kitchen and find a pygmy hippo soaking in the kitchen sink or a baby ocelot curled up on the couch life would go on. Don't laugh - stranger things have happened.