I have a near-life sized cardboard cutout of Captain Jean-Luc Picard. When it was still new, my friend T came over one evening to take care of the birds while I was out of town. She didn't know about Jean-Luc, nor did she know the bird lights were on timers. She let herself into the apartment, was startled by Jean-Luc, and the last of the bird lights went out.

Surprise!

I mention this story because, although having the Finsterium in the living room makes it easier to take a pretty picture of it, because all its walls are made of mesh, the picture loses much of its charm by being able to see all sorts of things through it. Jean-Luc being one. The fact that I have a near-life sized cardboard cutout of Captain Jean-Luc Picard is not something I'd necessarily planned on revealing to the entire internets, but here we are. Lucky for me, I don't have too many readers.

Have I described the Finsterium lately? The middle panel is one big door that I usually open wide when I'm cleaning up for the day. But in stressful times like these, I use just the bottom part of the door.

Now that they're in the living room, the Finsters are much more skittery than normal, they start hiding in their nest box quite early at night, and I'm not sure if they took a bath today (they usually take about three). But they all do seem to be eating — hopefully enough that they won't starve to death by the end of the ordeal. There have even been a couple of Hunka Hunka Burning Love songs from both males, although not many.

The new roommates are much louder. Here is the kitchen — the whole, entire kitchen.

Here's hoping this will all be over in less than 24 hours.