I once heard about a canary with a social disease … it had cherpes. It then developed feet trouble … and went to the chirpodist. Feeling depressed, it flew under a lawn mower … and became shredded tweet. And since then, no one’s heard a peep out of it.
A cheep shot, One Sagan! You should be careful lest someone tweet you the bird. It is always safer to go back to one's roost, it seems. Or go fishing-- for one's perch.
Speaking of which, would that be from one's front perch or from the back perch? If one is stoic about it, I guess it doesn't matter.