Oops--he did it again

You guessed it. He's back in rehab.

On one of my daily walks, I walked by the propane tank cabinet and glanced at it causally. Guess who I saw hopping frantically at the top of the tank?

"Worms!" Bird called happily when he saw me. "Oh, please tell me you're a worm!"

"Nope, no worms here," I replied as he hopped from tank to tank. "So you're back in, huh?"

"It's not my fault," he sobbed as he threw himself against the cage. "I just need worms. Worms! I know they're not that good for me, but they're soooo good." He looked hungrily at my fingers, which I pulled away from the cage.

"Please let me out," he pleaded. "I think I see some tasty worms." He was staring at my feet.

"Those are my toes," I said, taking a few steps back. "And I didn't put you in. You can get out the exact same way you got in."

"Worms!" the bird cried frantically as a truck drove by. "Worms worms worms worms worms worms!" I looked at him warily.

"You should stay in there," I said, as I started to walk away. "You really do have a problem."

"It's not me," he sobbed. "It's my genetics. Won't you help me? The other one wanted to help me."

"And you tried to eat her fingers," I reminded him. "Imagine what you'll do to mine." I could see his tiny bird brain trying to process this information. "Worms?" he asked again hopefully. Laughing, I strolled away.

When I returned later, the tiny confused bird had once again found his way out of rehab and was hopping along the ground with a- you guessed it- worm in his tiny beak.

"Worm!" he cried happily, his beak falling open to show me his prize. The worm flipped out and began to crawl along the ground desperately. "Worm!" he cried frantically, hopping away to scoop it up. "Worm worm worm worm worm!"

I expect he'll be back in rehab by Monday.