This is the story of a great love....
or perhaps just a marriage of convenience.

In either case, about three years ago, my colony of Societies attacked, seemingly, one of their chocolate-and-white comrades. I really have no idea.

When I removed the battered bird from the aviary, the tail feathers were gone. Wing tip feathers, gone. The skin on its tiny back was bleeding and lifting up-- shredded, in fact -- just awful.

I am not sure what provoked the attack. My research tells me that perhaps even partial feather-loss -- which I had frankly not noticed -- in this individual caused what seemed like an unprovoked assault. By the time I retrieved the individual, all of its long flight feathers were gone.

I was not optimistic. I placed the wounded birdie in a small, dark box lined with an old piece of washed flannel (of course, I had prepared the box with many air-holes). I also placed water, seeds, some crushed red kidney beans and a split tangerine section inside, and left the creature on its own for the night.

The next morning, I heard defiant peeps coming from the dark box! I opened the box, and the wingless, tailless survivor simply hopped up and out-- rather like a frog!! I was stunned!

I continued to keep the bird in its small box for another two days. The bird vocalized constantly with its flock, in spite of the fact that they had brutally turned against it.

So, I got a small cage, and provided everything a Society Finch could want, then placed the barely-feathered finch inside. It began to feed, preen, bathe, sing. This went on for a year. The long wing and tail feathers did not grow back. Still have not.

One day, my husband Andy wisely said, "You know, that bird must be lonely." So I rather impulsively brought home a Zebra Finch and released it into the small cage.

That was two years ago. The Zebra was silent for two days, and has not shut up since. Lots of very spirited, if monotone (ie , just one single, rather flat note), vocalizing. The Society has still not grown back its damaged feathers, but also is very chatty, and has a great attitude.

About a year ago, we moved these two into their own very large cage. Just the two of them. We placed twigs, braces and perches at various strategic points along the sides, since the Society cannot fly (remember -- no wings or tail, really!). This remarkable bird climbs the sides like a lizard -- and can manage short lateral hops.

Initially, we named them Diego (the Society, who is rather, after all, ugly, and round-looking without its long quills) and Frida, for the portly Mexican master and his iconoclastic, brilliant, slightly garish bohemian mistress. The Zebra, with stripes, orange bill and orange beak, is quite flashy compared with the rather sober-looking Societies. Andy says Frida is a "trophy wife". We feel that the drab Societies, whom I still love, are justifiably jealous of this showy creature.

But here's the thing: after two years or more of rapturous chirping, honking, snuggling, cuddling, snogging, head-preening, splashing, nest-building, etc. -- these two have produced many, many lovely eggs-- not one of which has hatched.

So, in acknowledgment of the obvious, we have renamed the pair Frida and Ellen.

All's well that ends well!

Article © Victoria Thomas -Los Angeles, CA 2007