Awoke this morning to a dream of Pimon lying dead on the bottom of the parakeet cage with his head pointed in a four o’clock direction. He was on his back and his feathers looked messed up, as if he was already decayed.
But I placed a millet seed spray on the middle part of the bottom of the cage. He was eating the seeds off the spray in a frenzy. He flew from the spray and landed on the mirror to the left of the cage where he shook his feathers in rapid succession.
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