The Fat Lady Sang

The Innocent Bystander made an executive proclamation: our little experiment in biodiversity is over.  He made me take the nesting box out of the cage.  Ahab (I just can't call her Ahabella-hell, I can barely bring myself to say her) had been sitting on her eggs for six weeks, and was only coming out of the box two or three times a day to take some wicked birdie dumps and grab a bite to eat.  Moby was eating for the both of them and 'sharing'.  We'll just leave it at that.  Once I managed to get the box out of the cage, and the bird out of the box (holy moly was she ever defensive!) this is what was left:

Kinda sad.  All those little potentialities gone to waste.  There is a wee, sick part of me that wants to crack one or two open to see if anything was even trying to develop, but I am trying to resist.  I am debating what to do with them.  I could bury them, like I made the IB do with the first one.  I could just lower them into the river and let her take them where she may.  But that sickie inside of me kinda thinks I should just put them out in the yard where the lions and tigers and bears (or snakes, possums and other egg sucking hound-type animals) can get at them.  Let nature take her course.  Ye olde cycle of life goes on, who's lowest on the food chain totem pole.

Ahab seems to be taking it well.  She spent almost a solid four hours this morning doing nothing but eating.  Then, once that appetite had been satisfied, she bathed.  She is normally a very fastidious little thing, but since she's been preggers, she has really let herself go.  I guess she's making up for lost time now, because so far, she's taken FOUR baths.  All in all, she doesn't appear to be any worse for the wear, other than a little bald spot on her breast, which was to be expected.

Well, I'm off to finger out how I'm going to dispose of these huevos.  Ya'll have a hellova hump day!