I'm a Bad Blogger, and a Crash Landing

Sorry I haven't posted in AGES. The main reason why I haven't posted is because *SURPRISE* not much has happened. Loki is still a poofing grump-pot. Mango is still desperate for attention.

Mango once again lives in the bird room with Loki. Loki still hates her. Mango is still oblivious. Mango also dyed half her face green by rubbing her face on a blue rope toy after a bath. True story.

"I said NO PHOTOS DAMMIT! GET OFF MY LAWN!"

Mango's fabulous green eyebrow. It's been two weeks. It's still bright green.

However, we did have some excitement last night. Mango was hanging out with me in my room, on her hanging rope perch thingy in the corner of the room. I turned around and walked away from her, and she took off flying after me. Since I had my back turned all I heard was flapping feathers and THUNK! Uh oh. That didn't sound good. I turned around to see Mango on the floor, limping towards me. She wasn't putting any pressure on her left foot. Uh oh....

I picked her up. She was putting some weight on her foot, but not gripping very hard. I palpated her toes, then up her leg. No pain reactions. After several minutes I checked again, and no swelling or discoloration. Good signs.

So that she wouldn't have to move around too much, I stuck her in her travel carrier for the night with some small bowls of food and water. Poor little bug.

When I woke  up this morning, I took her out to inspect. She still wasn't putting much pressure on her foot or grasping well, but still no swelling or discoloration. I hemmed and hawed about taking her to the vet. Was I overreacting? Was this serious?

Let me just stop and say here that you should never Google animal injuries when you're already slightly panicky about your injured pet. Every place on the internet is going to tell you that you're a terrible person and that your pet will most likely die within 24-72 hours.

I decided to take her to the vet. Not because the internet scared me into it, but because I wouldn't be able to deal with the guilt of making Mango hobble around on a broken leg for days because I wanted to just "wait and see." Playing it safe, I made an appointment for the early evening.

"I noticed you put me in this travel box. I'd really rather be on your shoulder, so I attempting to break out."

I really love Mango's vet, Dr. Stout (no kidding, Liz). She's extremely nice, patient, and is able to calm even the most anxious pet owner's fears. She checked Mango thoroughly, and determined that there was no through-break. She was very honest and said that if it was her pet, she'd give her pain meds, confine her to a recovery tank to relieve the pressure on her foot from perching and hanging from the cage bars, and give it about a week. So that's what we decided to do. If, after a week, Mango still isn't really using her leg, we'll get an x-ray to see if there's a hairline fracture.

Sounds good, right?

Except I'll be in Iceland next week. That little rainbow chicken nugget of mine waited until right before I leave for vacation. Sigh. Thank goodness I have a roommate that can take her if needed.

So now Mango is living in the Boo Boo Tank, a 10-gallon fish tank with a towel on the bottom and a screen top. She gets delicious honey-flavored pain meds twice a day. An hour after her first dose, she was perching on my finger with gusto and the grip from her left foot was nearly as strong as the right.

The Boo Boo Tank

I think she's gonna be fine.