I just put out some more bird seed, because I noticed that this morning's supply had been depleted by the usual mob of colourful creatures, but also because one of the birds still picking at the few seeds left clearly needs all the help it can get.
It's a cockatoo with a fairly advanced case of "psittacine beak and feather disease". I could have taken a picture of it, but it always makes me so sad to even look at a cockatoo with this disease that I just couldn't stand it.
It also makes me sort of aimlessly angry, wishing God existed so I could ask Him what the bloody hell He thought He was playing at.
Psittacine beak and feather disease is, in brief, a virus which takes one of the most beautiful creatures in the world, and makes it uglier and uglier until it is so ugly that it can no longer eat, whereupon it dies. If opportunistic infections of the bird's devastated feathers and tumorous, necrotic beak and claws haven't killed it already, that is.
There is no cure, or even specific treatment, for psittacine beak and feather disease.
There are hundreds of diseases of humans and animals that're just as horrible. But few are as purely and plainly awful as this one. It's like a metaphor for the unfairness of life.
Right - I'm off to Cute Overload for a while.