IT WAS A SIMPLE matter. I'd paid my money to share a cabin with some friends at a state park right on the ocean, and I'd be leaving town on Monday, April 28. All I needed was to set the dates with my usual birdsitter, Alice. (Note: All names have been changed at the insistence of the guilty.)

Alice is a vet tech at my avian vet's office and while she charges an arm and a leg, she's very good and I trust her with my babies. She comes over twice a day to change the papers, feed goodies, take the birds out for play time, and just generally spoil them. I suspect she also gives them ideas of things they can do to torment me when I return, but I haven't been able to prove that yet.

Plus, Alice is an excellent vet tech. She not only knows what constitutes an emergency, she also knows what to do in one, unafraid to administer syringes of medication if necessary. I'm very fond of Alice, but don't tell her that or she'll raise her rates.

The first week of March I called Alice and told her when I needed her to bird sit. For a long moment I heard pages flipping. Finally she said, "According to my calendar, I'll be out of town then."

"What?"

"I'm going to a seminar. It's out of town."

"But I need you to bird sit for me." It was incomprehensible to me that Alice has a life outside the vet's office or my home. She’s told me before that she has her own home, but I don’t believe she lives anywhere but the vet’s office.

"Well, I'm sorry, but I have to be out of town."

She didn't sound very sorry to me, so I persisted. "But I've already paid for everything and I can't cancel. Who's birdsitting for you?" Alice has several birds of her own, though they're not nearly as pretty and charming as my birds.

"Kathy is housesitting for me. I could ask her if she'd want to check on your birds."

What choice did I have? I sighed. "OK, would you please ask her and get back to me? Or shall I ask her?"

"Let me ask her, " Alice said.

Of course, I could have taken my birds to one of the local pet stores or to another vet for boarding, but they don't get any attention and it's a strange place to them. My regular vet no longer boards birds, so that leaves me at the mercy of people like Alice.

A couple of days later, Alice called to inform me that Kathy would have her hands full and wouldn't be able to bird sit for me.

I was ready to beg at this point. "Well, what am I going to do? I've already paid for everything and I can't get my money back." It was clearer to me than ever that this was all Alice’s fault.

Alice thought for a moment. "You might call Jane Smith. She bird sits sometimes."

"You understand," I told Alice, "that you are never, ever to leave town again without checking with me first, don't you?"

Alice laughed. She obviously didn't know I was serious.

Jane Smith is one of only five federally licensed wildlife rehabilitators in our state, specializing in birds, and she's also a member of the local bird club. I called another member of the bird club to check out her work. When I received glowing reports about her, I called Jane.

The first thing Jane asked was, "How often do you want the cages cleaned?"

Clean the cages? It never occurred to me to ask a birdsitter to clean my bird cages. "Well, I change the papers every other day or more often if they've been eating something messy."

"I asked because some people want me to dismantle and completely clean the cages everyday. You've got four birds and I just don't have time to do all that. I'm coming into my busy season, you know."

I immediately assured her I just wanted someone to check on the birds, be sure they had fresh water and food, maybe play with them a little, and not let them run up my phone bill. Jane gave this some thought, then asked what sort of vegetable regimen I had them on.

Vegetable regimen? "Well," I said, "they get whatever vegetables I eat in my TV dinners during the week, plus whatever I happen to cook on the weekends. Plus pasta and Nutriberries and the occasional blueberry or broccoli stalk. They're all on Harrison's, of course."

I could hear Jane frown. "Birds need lots of veggies and I love to see them eat. I fix about a hundred servings of veggies and corn bread and nuts for all my birds every day." I could hear her hundred or so birds in the background, so I didn't doubt it. Of course, it was also obvious that Jane didn't have a job outside her home.

"If you can get my birds to eat veggies, by all means you have my permission to do so."

We made arrangements for Jane to come meet my birds and confirm all the details. I liked Jane immediately, though I doubted her ridiculous "vegetable regimen" idea would have any effect whatsoever on my birds. I foresaw numerous carpet stains from tossed vegetables and mushy blueberries. I silently vowed to make Alice pay for her treachery.

When I finally arrived at the cabin to start my vacation, I immediately called Jane to be sure she'd gotten into my house all right. She was very enthusiastic and assured me that she'd gotten in just fine. "I brought them cornbread and lots of cut-up vegetables. Sugar Franklin loves corn and cornbread. They all dived right in and ate up everything."

"That's great," I said, but I had to wonder if she was in the right house. My birds have never dived right into a bowl of anything but Cheerios. I left Jane my number in case of an emergency and said I wouldn't call again unless something came up. That was on Monday afternoon.

By Wednesday I missed my birds so much I broke down and called Jane. "They're all fine," she said. She went on to tell me how Sugar Franklin adores cornbread and corn and carrots and lettuce, how Charli couldn't wait for her grapes and green beans, how even the other two cockatiels eagerly chowed down on their mixed vegetables.

"It's easy," Jane said. "You just put everything out in fridge in the evenings to thaw, and all you have to do in the mornings is put the bowls in their cages before you leave for work. And I usually make a big batch of cornbread on Sundays."

While I was glad my birds were fine and eating like kings, I also began to worry. Jane was spoiling them rotten. Would I have a riot on my hands when I returned? Would the birds go on a hunger strike if I didn't prepare cornbread everyday? Would they stalk me for green beans almondine, scream bloody murder for carrots julienne every morning? If I didn't deliver, would Jane report me to the Humane Society? Would I get kicked out of the bird club?

While I didn’t get much rest on my vacation for worrying, I am pleased to report that my birds still love me and even acted glad when I got home. Jane's veggie regimen, alas, is no more. I don't know why. Just like she told me to, I leave thawed-out mixed veggies in the mornings before I go to work. But when I get home in the evening, I find most of the veggies untouched.

Maybe Jane ate veggies with the birds, and they chowed down just to be polite. Maybe she handfed tidbits to them over the course of hours, cooing and praising with each successful bite. Perhaps I should quit my job so I can spend all day offering them veggies by hand.

But the important thing is that now I have two birdsitters from which to choose, should I ever be able to afford to be away from home overnight again. And Jane, bless her heart, has set a new standard for bird sitting.

Now that I know daily cage cleaning and diet consultations are options, I wonder what else is available. Does anyone out there offer French lessons? (I’ve always dreamed of Charli learning one of the Romance languages!) How about macramé, ceramics, akido? Perhaps Charlie could learn a more useful form of woodworking than reducing my living room furniture to splinters. For that matter, surely someone can teach them how to make their own cornbread to save me the trouble.

I’m so glad I found Jane. She has opened me and my birds to a whole new world of possibilities. I expect that within a couple of years, Sugar Franklin, Charli and the cockatiels will be fully qualified to enter the best Ivy League colleges. Then I’ll have them out of my hair long enough to take lots of vacations on the beach. Thanks, Jane!