Poor El Birdo. One of the cats knocked our roasting pan off the table and made a huge racket in the middle of the night. I've heard that Cockateils can have night panics, but I've never seen one before.
After I picked up the pan, I heard a ruckus coming from the studio. It was so loud I thought somebody was breaking in. So, with my handy-dandy peacemaker loaded and cocked, I went in there. It was just the bird.
No. I didn't shoot her.
Poor thing was flapping around in the cage in full panic mode. I turned on the light and she froze. Have you ever seen a cat with its hair standing up on end? That's what the bird looked like. Every single feather was up on end, including her comb and tail feathers. If it weren't so frightening to see her in such a panic, it would have been funny. She wouldn't even move when I got up next to the cage and started bird-talking her. You know, making those clicking sounds with my tongue and smoochy-smoochy noises.
I finally reached in and got her on my finger. Nothing. Still frozen. I held her close to me, making sounds she knows and talking calmly to her, lovingly. Nothing. It wasn't until the dopey thing fell off my hand and thunked to the floor that she snapped out of it. Then, she reverted to "Oh. I'm out of my cage so I have to walk over to my person to get picked up and put back in" mode. She was a little shaky, but normal. I've never seen anything like it. I visited with her for a while before putting her back to bed.