I like cold weather as much as the next Houstonian (considering we get about 2.5 days of it each year).
But the winged one is tropical.
So when the cold temps hit, it’s all I can do to restrain myself from shrinking a chihuahua sweater and cutting out wing holes.
Which is why we often play a game I like to call “warm bird, cold bird”.
It’s also worth mentioning that neither of us enjoy it very much.
The game starts when I observe this:
Which prompts this:
It is at this point when we both suddenly remember that the small white box (aka the portable heater) elicits a similar response in avians to what a human might do if a humming white spaceship blowing hot exhaust landed in our bathroom.
At which point the appropriate response is of course:
And finally this: