3 weeks ago, despite a few mishaps - a couple infertiles and the tragic cracking of two fertile eggs - the first new spark of live emerged into the light of the world.

Tiny, pink, and helpless under his mother's breast, he who would be called Simba was a sight for sore eyes. However could this itty-bitty little creature ever survive in this big wide world?

But Simba had not one, not two, not three or five but seven caring parents - or rather, four parents, an aunt, a big brother and a big sister - to help him on his journey. Never was Simba left alone, always he was cared for. And as Simba grew stronger each day, he was joined on his journey in time by two, three, four, then finally five more. Sylvan, Nimbus, Waffles, Cirrus....

...and finally, the smallest of them all, tiny little Rain - five days smaller than any sibling, she would hatch after her kingdom's keeper had assumed all remaining eggs were infertile. He would be proved wrong. She was vibrant, and she too grew and grew.

Though dwarfed by all of her siblings, this tiniest beauty was a fighter, and pushed her way through the chow line to dinner just as strongly as they.
At 13 days, her older siblings Simba and Nimbus would begin to resemble the birds they were. Their owner began to dilligently handle them, sometimes for an hour at a time, always making sure they were fed by very tolerant grown-ups beforehand.

Trusting of their human friend, the adults would simply use this break time to stock up on groceries.

All grew, and Rain, though younger, grew too, even amongst bigger and pushier siblings.

Sylvan would become the quickest to mature, however, outspeeding even his older brother (who probably had different, naturally smaller parents than he, as the adults vary somewhat in size between them all). Sylvan would become the favorite of his human, and the most receptive to his affections.

After a few weeks, all of the birds had begun to look like the finches they were as naked skin gave way to fleshy quills and finally, to bursting, beautiful fluffy feathers.

The babies would grow more and more attached to their human daddy and spend longer and longer increments cuddled or at play with him during the days, giving their parents a well-deserved break.

Sylvan really looked like a bird by 17 days.

Rain less so, but catching up.

Finally, at 20 days, Sylvan became the first to take to the air! If only landings were as easy. After much commotion, his caretakers finally figured out how to feed a nest-free baby bird.

What a difference a week makes! The babies all in a row at 17 - 22 days of age. "We wanna fly, dad! Hurry up!"

And fly they would! No baby flights for this group. Only the tallest roosts would do!

But always, after a big flight, the group would return to me, their human daddy who gave them the best cuddles and a warm place to rest.

Even as fledges, hours could go by where they'd want only to lay in my company. The sweetest little animals they had become, not even through hand-feeding, but simply providing companionship through prolonged and continued socialization as they grew, and hopefully continue to grow, into amazing adults.

A few days more, a few longer flights, many more returns to daddy for a photo-op.

A silly-looking yawn...

And a nap.

And here the babies lie now, just over 3 weeks old, rapidly becoming birds - but also, growing sweeter each day despite. The proof is definitely in the pudding. Finches can certainly be tamed, even if they're not hand-raised - so long as they learn early on the benefits of befriending that big awkward ape who rules their world, and all the love he can bring.
And this is all without the slightest food reward.
I love being a bird owner.