I think I’ve learned my lesson. Never, ever, under any circumstances, clip my budgie Peanut’s wings anywhere but the enclosed bathroom. The last two times I clipped them, she’s gotten away from me after the last wing was clipped and hidden away where we couldn’t get to her.
The first time it was under the fridge. Fortunately, that ordeal only lasted about 40 minutes and we were able to get her out once we figured the fridge rolled out of its spot.
This time, however, she made a break for the stove and it resulted in a three hour ordeal. We tried coaxing her out. We tried setting out seed. We tried putting the cage with our other budgies nearby so their calling would coax her out. No dice. So, we finally tried pulling the stove out, an ordeal in itself. Little did we know that there were holes in the side of the cabinets next to the stove. We spent the next two hours tearing the kitchen apart, trying to figure out how to get this scared little bird out alive while doing the least damage to our kitchen.
Fortunately, I was able to push back some particle board in the cabinet far enough to get a stick in and coax her backward to the space behind the stove. Before we could grab her though, she made a beeline for the space between the stove and the cabinet on the opposite side. At that point, she completely disappeared. We didn’t know if she was in the stove or in the cabinet. We tried probing carefully with a stick in both areas to find where she was. Nothing. We had no clue where she was and we just about thought all hope was lost.
We searched the stove. Nothing. We pulled it out as far as we could and my husband got behind it to check the cabinets. I got him a longer stick to probe with. At this point, I was in just about full panic mode and about ready to pass out from hypoglycemia (hadn’t eaten anything yet and it was late afternoon).
A few minutes later, a little squawk let us know that our wayward budgie was indeed under the cabinets. A few minutes of work sweeping the stick through the hole in the cabinet resulted in the appearance of a teeny little budgie head poking out the hole. My husband gently coaxed her out a little further, then grabbed her. As he stood up, he bumped his head on the microwave overhead and our little escape artist flew off, making another break for it. I caught her mid-air, held her close to my chest, and quickly hustled her into the bathroom to wash all the dust and gunk off her. Then it was back into the cage for her, where she’s now sitting nice and dry and sufficiently preened. She’s sitting, staring at me, no doubt planning her next escape.
Our little adventure resulted in a little “remodeling” of the kitchen, but we consider it an improvement. We’ve done away with the carousel in the corner cabinet and will be putting shelves in. Hubby cleaned up and put everything back in its place. We both took showers, I ordered pizza, and we crashed on the couch for the rest of the night.
This week, we’re going to Home Depot for some “bird proofing” supplies. I think we should change that little parakeet’s name to Trouble. 
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