“‘Will you walk into my parlor?’ said the Spider to the Fly.”
Tomorrow is Eddy’s first trip to the V-E-T.
He’s never been in his 20 year old life, and we thought it would be good to make friends before something bad happened and friendship is superseded by sheer panic and worry (not that we’re planning on anything like that to happen, but it’s always good to be on top of these things).
He’s also due up for a claw-cure.
So long that they curl a bit at the end.
He has numerous “claw trimming perches” but none of them work well if you have a perch potato.
I used to trim them myself, but he’s gotten smarter about that sort of thing and doesn’t give me the chance to get the clippers anywhere near him.
When I called to make the appointment, I made sure to tell the receptionist that he’s, uh, not that keen on most people touching him (read: will put the vice-of-death on you). She assured me that they were well equipped to handle all types of birds.
But can they handle Eddy?
Still, that’s their problem and not mine. I get to clutch at my husband’s hand as my baby gets prodded and tested for all sorts of things.
Hopefully he’ll get a clean bill of health!