The case of the missing budgie

From a series of texts to our daughter, who was away for a weekend in the midst of housesitting stints for us this summer, and whose budgie is named Charlie: 

The Case of the Missing Budgie

Charlie had a good day today. Or, at least, it ended well.

He listened to CKUA Radio, chirped happily, nibbled his food, and preened himself.

Mom and Dad spent most of the day in the basement, dismantling the play room. They were very hungry by six o'clock, so they decided to go pick up some teenburgers.

When they returned, Shadow was barking in one of the back bedrooms, but came running to the back door as usual. Mom went to say hello to Charlie in his cage by the front window, and found the cage open and the bird gone!

The search was on. The burgers got cold.

And the budgie was nowhere to be found.

Every corner of the house was checked, baseboards, curtains, houseplants, shoes, behind every desk and piece of furniture. Even the ceilings, and top shelves of every cupboard and closet.

EVERYWHERE. UPSTAIRS. DOWNSTAIRS. No budgie.

Shadow-dog was viewed with suspicion, but of course, he wasn't telling.

Dad and Mom had promised to deliver one of the play room toys to a nephew and niece for their little one at 7:30, and still hadn't found Charlie by 7:15. So they took the dog and made the trip, hoping Charlie would come out of hiding while they were gone. 

During the drive, Mom, who was very worried, said, "Come on, St. Anthony, finder of lost things, help us out here. And you too, St. Jude, patron of hopeless cases." Dad said, "What about St. Francis?"

"Yup, him too."

There was a nice little visit with the relatives, and Dad and Mom drove home, plotting how to search every inch of the house for Charlie if necessary.

When they got back at 8:30, Dad started searching in his office, and Mom was shaking out the freshly washed bedding in the guest room, when Dad walked into the dining room and said, "Here he is!"

Charlie was contentedly sitting on the "wanderer" plant at the dining room window. There were budgie-bite-sized chunks missing out of one of its leaves.

Mom had looked at the top shelf and not noticed him on the next shelf down at supper time. We figure that he was hiding behind the plant, watching us eat supper, but too frightened by his sudden escape to make a peep, even though we chirped and whistled and "Heyyyy Birdie"-ed our way through our burgers.

Mom gently picked Charlie up and put him into his cage. Then she tied it shut with a twist tie.

Thank you, St. Francis, and all you other guys.