Cockatiel Cocktail, and other Concoctions

The animals kept our guests entertained this year again at our annual "Fifties Cocktail Party." Last year was our first themed party, and it was Sprite's first dose of human overload in the Feather Dorm. He lived in the bedroom then, and went to sleep early in the evening. This year he was the main attraction. He perched on his tree at the top of the stairs to give each entering guest a "Hi!" Then he held court with his human buddies.

Our menu, music, and dress for the party keeps with the theme. Ms. Flock Advisor put on her vintage-dress and cracked open her antique cookbook for a chocolate chip cookie recipe that requires no assistance from Betty Crocker. It's raw ingredients all the way. She also made a batch of Kraft macaroni and cheese which had been requested by several people who were also at last year's party. Relish trays were also laid out. I took on the cocktail menu in my best "Babalu" shirt. Champagne punch filled a giant bowl, and I dusted off the martini shaker. I also printed a menu of specialty cocktails named for their resemblance to the birds. A Mellow 'Prite was an apple martini with a golden delicious apple slice. A Singing Lennon was a gin and tonic with a cucumber garnish cut to resemble his raised crest. The rest of the menu is pictured at the bottom of this post.

Sprite manned (or, birded?) his perch and turned on the charm when he saw plates of macaroni and cheese coming out of the kitchen. His head stretched to passers-by until he found an accomplice. Our friend Diego stabbed one of the coated noodles and held it out. Sprite kindly ground his beak once and then took it from the fork. He savored every bite. When Diego then gave him two noodles at one time, Sprite set one down in his nearest food dish while he ate the other. Then he retrieved the second. Birds usually think nothing of grabbing one bite of a banana while the rest drops to the floor. Kenobi is always happy to Hoover the smorgasboard under their cages, but Sprite was keeping all of the Kraft to himself.

Macaroni and cheese is, of course, not part of a balanced diet for parrots. Like the cheese sandwiches Sprite is so fond of, it does sit near the top of the list in the "now and then" food group. An extra special treat was certainly in order for his willingness to interact nicely with a crowd of people. It was great to see Sprite as comfortable as he was, surrounded by people. He has come a long way from the shy bird that he once was. Last year he was exhausted early by the few people who leaned their heads into his room, but this year he stayed out to mingle until the last guest left.

Kenobi made his appearance for a little while. He likes to bounce around under everyone's feet, so he had to spend most of his time in a fenced off section of the room for his own safety. He got plenty of visitors, though, who were very happy to give his soft fur a pet. He also gnoshed on some carrots from the relish trays.

Most of our friends work with animals in one way or another, or are just plain animal lovers. We all love being around finned, furry, or feathered creatures as much as being around people (scaly critters, too). Our conversations always get back to animals we've worked with, or animals that live with us. We can't help it. Every animal has a personality that makes them special. Ms. Flock Advisor and I love getting to know our friends' pets as much as they seem to love hanging out with ours. We aren't "bird people," or "bunny people." Our friends aren't "dolphin people," or "fish people," or "snake people." We are people who love animals, all animals. Even if there is a certain species or family that we wouldn't particularly care to share a cab with, we are still curious about them and eager to understand a little more about them.

For the safety of our guests, Cher spent the evening perched on my shoulder.

Why Live with Birds?

My life is better because I live with birds. Perhaps enriching is the proper term: my life is enriched because I live with birds. Yes, that's it. Let me explain why.

From my time in the zoological field I know that enriching doesn't necessarily mean fun, scary, or annoying. For dolphins a fun basketball (See: The Middle Flipper) can be enriching, but so can some scary sounds from sliding deck chairs around. Enrichment is just something different in the animal's environment. Four parrots, and Kenobi, provide my life with "something different" everyday.

I've wanted to write a blog on the subject of why I love living with birds ever since the question was posed to me about a year ago at a family gathering. At that moment Cher was clambering around to the top of my head for a look around and I basically said something like, "Just look at her, she's hilarious!" I was in a good mood at that moment and having a comical little conure around only added to the fun of that evening.

Some days are more trying. Does having several jungle animals in the house, and a grazing rabbit, help me cope with stress? Not when Cher is screaming her demands for attention and Kenobi is driving the security deposit into negative figures while I'm freaking out about a to-do list I'd trade for a day in Sysiphus's sandas, I'll admit that. What I'll also admit is that its hard to stay frustrated with life when all of these little guys are here not wanting anything more than company and snacks. Having one of the birds hop onto my lap while I'm struggling through some doleful project, then seeing them preen and just be happy that we are sharing the time together is a mental recharge.

If Kenobi is eating the carpet, then we can have fun re-directing him to playing with his stuffed animals or eating some fresh greens. When the birds are being loud, we know its time to spend some time with them. Even just a little thing like letting them perch in the room with us will quiet them down. Sprite's unwillingness to step-up from the time he came to live with us and Coconuts outright disdain for humans has led us to get to know them both better through training. The difficulties of having the animals around provide enrichment that can be turned into a positive so easily because just being their companions is a treat for us. This morning Cher provided me with a laugh and a photo-op first thing. She must have been snacking in the early morning hours because when I lifted her cage cover I saw her staring back at me with bits of crushed food pellets stuck to her beak. I was worried for a moment because this can often be a sign that a bird is throwing up and therefore very sick. Taking a closer look, though, it was obvious the bits had not been swallowed and were only on the tip of her beak where she had evidently been foraging for the last bits in her food dish.

Earlier this week I was experiencing a nerve-wrecking morning due to some computer issues (severe data loss). Ms. Flock Advisor was offering to help in any way that she could, and offering comfort. My mind was spinning, though. I was scurrying around the house trying to pull together what I needed for the day before I had to run out the door. Kenobi was bouncing around my legs as I walked, oblivious to my urgency. Sprite was perched on the top of his cage near the stairwell that leads to the front door. Keys, bag, and phone all in order I was stopped by Ms. Flock Advisor for some last words of encouragement before I rushed out to meet deadlines with fury. I looked over and saw Sprite stretching his neck out to me with widened eyes while he ground his beak, a sign of comfort. I reached out and gave his neck feathers a good kneading before I had to go. That moment lasted no more than 15 seconds or so, but it was a much needed pick-me-up (or settle-me-down, rather). In 15 seconds I had given this bird all that he really cared to get out of the day: a little interaction with the rest of the flock. He put me at ease too, as did the rest of the birds with their calls as I left. I took with me the knowledge that they would all be waiting when I got home for more time together.

Birds are social animals, but the relationship that humans develop with them is different than the kind of relationship usually developed with a dog or cat. With birds, humans become a part of the flock. It is a relationship built on interaction rather than food provisions. For parrots, in fact, the best thing for them is to make their food as hard to get to as possible: this way they can exercise their natural talents of problem solving and foraging. Spending time with them is crucial, but it is often very simple. We just let them out of the cage and go about our business. Lennon is content to fall asleep on Ms. Flock Advisor's chest while we watch a movie at night. Cher is content to play with the tag of my morning tea on my desk while I feverishly try to increase my online presence. Sprite would like a head scratch every so often as we walk by his perch, but really relishes in repeating words back and forth with us. Coconut lights up and becomes so energetic during his clicker training sessions that he makes my day, too.

Perhaps the best part about living with the birds is their necessity to communicate with their flock. This is the same ingrained need that drives some birds to become nuisances to their humans, but I love it. The birds call to us and to each other as soon as they see the light, or hear someone stir, just as they would in the wild. They are announcing that they've made it through the night, and are getting a report from their flock mates. Getting home at night, we are greeted by a big, "Hi!" from Sprite and the little birds strike up their discombobulated chorus.

The most endearing calls from them are the ones that they make as we leave: the sounds I heard on my stressful morning after getting some quick, mental therapy from Sprite and Ms. Flock Advisor. Sprite carried on with his mumbling sounds, Cher twittered and screamed in an attempt to call me back up the stairs, and Coconut went through his vast repertoire. Lennon gave his normal salutation over and over as he does each time he sees us begin to gather our car keys and descend the stairs: "Bye guys. Love yooooou." He learned the words from Ms. Flock Advisor who always says the same to the animals as she leaves for the day, now Lennon conveys the message to me. I'd like to think he speaks for all the birds.

Nellie the Dolphin's 58th Birthday and Bird Feet Love Tank Tops

Nellie turned 58 today over at Marineland; she is the oldest dolphin you'll see at any zoo or aquarium in the world. Her birthday is a celebration every year, and I was there with my camera. Nellie's birthday included a cake made for her by the trainers. This year it featured sushi snacks in addition to her normal fare of herring, capelin, and gelatin. The birds had to stay home for this one although Ms. Flock Advisor and I contemplated taking Kenobi attached to a string device. He ended up staying at home, though. It would have been difficult to explain that the harnessed animal at the end of my leash eating the gift shop inventory is my service animal, and so he must be allowed in to Nellie's big bash with me. Besides, I've seen what my turkey calls do to his ears, no telling how the trainer's whistles would affect him.

It was a nice day in the sun, especially after spending the last couple of beautiful weekends inside tapping away at this keyboard. Lennon has hardly been able to keep up with his mimic of the keyboard clicks. Nellie's birthday was an excellent reason to put the feverish textual productivity on hold (then again, here I am) for a day. Her age is known exactly because she was born at Marineland in 1953. Her longevity is of course a testament to her own hardiness, but also to the care that is taken of her by the staff that oversees the dolphins at Marineland. Marine mammal veterinary science is a very young discipline, so taking care of those animals can be particularly challenging. Like the parrots at the Feather Dorm, dolphins are intelligent and social, but still undomesticated animals. It takes a keen and educated eye to spot a health problem in time because their instinct is to mask illness. Morning assessments of the animals are something dolphin caretakers and bird keepers know very well. Seeing the animals at the start of the day must be more than a casual glance. Are they active, breathing normally, eating, social? Even on the most rushed mornings to get out the door and off to work, either myself or Ms. Flock Advisor takes a moment to check on the animals as they wake-up. A screaming Cher can instigate a migraine as we search for car keys and throw a lunch together, but it's a good sign that she is a healthy, if not happy at that moment, Cher.

After the party for Nellie, I was in the mood to enjoy some more of the sunny day. I stopped off at our local burrito shop for supplies and then cranked up the Sunday reggae show on the radio as soon as I walked in the door of the Feather Dorm. Cher came out on the porch with me, but missed out on the chips and salsa because I swallowed them up too fast for her. Ever notice how you sometimes eat really spicy foods a little too fast before realizing it? She did munch on a couple of Nutri-berries while perched on her tree-stand. Putting a beer in a coozie for the first time this year, I reflected on how great of a reggae Sunday this is: mexi-beach food, cold brew, a waterfront view speckled with exotic wildlife (okay, its a pond with an alligator in it), and a parrot to hang out with. How much more tropical can it get? The answer is none, none more tropical.

With summer around the corner I thought it was also time to send out this message on behalf of parrots everywhere. Bird feet can grip the material of a t-shirt very well. Bird feet do not do as well when trying to perch on a shirtless human. They slip and slide, usually ending up on the ground, and leave their human with didactyl rake marks on their shoulder. A tank top provides your parrot with adequate footing, and you with that feeling of sunshine on the shoulders. So rock your tank top this summer, for your bird's sake. Ignore those downward stares from the cool-guys, they just don't like Def Leppard or Spinal Tap.

Cher at the Park, and Conure Aggression

Cher went to the park today for Parrots in the Park, our local gathering of parrots and people. This was not her first trip to the park, but it was her first photo opportunity with another Sun Conure. His name is Screech. He was there with his own flockmate, Maya, a Nanday. With vultures cruising by in the distance, a curious puppy roaming about, and any other reason they could think of, conure screeches filled the air on an otherwise peaceful day at the park. Although it was fun to see Cher interact with another conure, the day at the park with other parrot owners was also a great step in her socialization progress.

After living with only myself, Coconut, and Kenobi for the last part of 2010 Cher has regressed into her old temperamental ways. Since we reunited the flock this year she has shown aggressive behavior toward Ms. Flock Advisor. Cher has always explored the territory of aggressive behavior and it has been a challenge for all of us in the Feather Dorm to work through.

Cher developed a bond with me about two years ago and ever since has shown aggressiveness toward other people. This is the type of behavior that many conure owners observe: the bird will develop an extremely close bond with one person, but displace or act aggressively toward any other people. Cher has shown this tendency at home, but also in other environments as well. She has been aggressive when we've visited my parent's house toward people she has never seen before. Her aggressive behavior toward Ms. Flock Advisor, however, is especially unacceptable. We have developed a new plan to curb her behavior at home, once again.

The first step in our new plan was to clip her wings. Cher has been flighted for about a year now and that has allowed her recently to aggressively fly at Ms. Flock Advisor. Clipping her wings not only prevents her from acting out aggressively from across the room, but it also has an effect on her overall demeanor. She is less able to exert herself as dominant throughout the house. We theorize, based on research and other conure owner experiences, that a driving force behind her aggression is to protect me or ward off threats to her own social status. By attacking, she is employing the "best defense is a good offense" technique. Cher has to understand that it is not her role. Ms. Flock Advisor theorized, based on her own research, that Cher will actually lead a less stressful life when she learns that protecting the flock is not her role. I hope that means she will not feel she needs to alert us all whenever a buzzard glides over.

We also decided to curb Cher's time on my shoulder or in the neck of my shirt. These, as far as we can tell, are her favorite places and from now on they will be a reward for good behavior. To create a baseline for our training, she was restricted from my shoulder for two weeks following her last aggressive instance. The purpose was not to punish her, but to create a good solid baseline desire for those two perches. After the period of restriction, sitting on my shoulder or climbing in my shirt became more reinforcing than ever for her.

Cher shows precursors to her aggression: she displaces on toys and other objects with her beak, puffs up her feathers and struts around, and has a set of guteral vocals that she makes when she's about to be aggressive. When Ms. Flock Advisor is around, she is not to show any of these precursors. If she does, and she is with me, then she goes back to her cage or stand. If she does not she can stay with me. If she continues to be good, she is rewarded by being allowed on my shoulder or in my shirt. This is essentially the plan we have used in the past with her, and we are banking on it working again. We are using the basic principles of positive reinforcement, without food (Cher seems more attention motivated than food motivated). Training doesn't require food.

Today's trip to the park was another attempt of mine to socialize her and temper her aggression. She typically gets very subdued around other birds. Today was no exception. Cher stayed with me and did not show any aggression to people coming over to me, sitting down next to us, or even asking to hold Cher. She stepped up on two other people and showed no aggression at all. It was a good day in the park, and Cher got a great photo for the album.

Writin' With Sprite

Sprite is mashing some banana chunks in his beak right next to me as I write this. I wheeled him into the office on his tree stand (home office, that is), and loaded him up with snacks to keep him occupied.

Sprite has been through a lot of changes recently, as have the other birds, and I've noticed him developing a bond with Lennon through it all. He moved to and back from the west coast with Lennon. The two of them lived over there together with Ms. Flock Advisor for several months before being re-united with the rest of the flock. They do not interact directly, but I've noticed Sprite showing interest in Lennon being handled by the Flock Advisors.

I did some deep cleaning of the bird cages and the animals' corner of the Feather Dorm a couple of weekends ago. This involved putting the little guys in their carriers while I took their cages apart for a good scrubbing. Cher's cage was done first: she protested, but the other birds showed little interest. After her cage was finished and she was allowed back in it I started on Lennon's. Just putting him in his carrier, which he whined about and tried to squirm out of, put Sprite on high alert.

I could hear Sprite in his cage behind me making his mumbling noises and clanging about his cage. Lennon had my full attention though as he wriggled and nipped at me as opposed to settling into his carrier peacefully. When I finally got him into it, I turned to see Sprite flaring his tail feathers and pinning his eyes wildly. When I lifted Lennon's cage and began to disassemble it he started calling to Lennon.

I had to remove Lennon's cage around the corner to give it a good cleaning, and I took Lennon with me. He was whistling loudly and stomping around the floor of his carrier, but was not panicking or in distress. Once we were out of sight, however, Sprite came close to distress. He started whistling like Lennon and they called back and forth like that until Lennon's cage was set back up. Lennon seemed surprised to hear an answer to his calls, and I think he was looking for Ms. Flock Advisor to come through the door any second. She is normally who he whistles with. He started into a couple of his songs, but Sprite just kept doing the, "I'm over here" whistle that sounds like something you'd summon a runaway dog with.

The whistling back and forth kept on until Lennon was set back in his fresh cage and I moved on to Coconut's. Sprite showed no interest in my taking apart Coconut or Kenobi's cage, and simply moved out of the way as I cleaned his own.

Sprite has been whistling along more lately with Ms. Flock Adivsor and Lennon. Even though we will not let the two interact directly, due the extreme size difference and potential for Sprite to injure Lennon, it is fun to see them developing a bond.

Sprite has also gained a new tenant with his cage now out in the center of the Feather Dorm. Kenobi has taken to Sprite's basement where he can find tidbits of paper and wood, remnants of dismantled toys that fall to the ground. He also gets the occasional fruity pellet or vegetable shred that Sprite drops (birds are messy eaters). Its a commensal relationship.

The Breakfast Mess

This afternoon I promised Ms. Flock Advisor that I would vacuum up the bird food crumbs from the couch and coffee table. The mess was a result of today's enrichment idea for Lennon and Cher, Kenobi also barged in.

As I've posted on this blog before, enrichment is something we try to weave into the lives of our flockmates as often as possible. Usually it is in the form of playtime, or a result of "will the birds eat this?" Parrots are natural problem solvers, and so it is vital that they be presented with unexpected scenarios as often as possible to keep their bird brains occupied with something other than chewing on the drywall.

Today my thought was to give Cher her breakfast on the playstand, which has two food cups mounted on it, in the living room where I was reading by the light of a beaming winter sun. As I prepared her feast I could hear that Lennon was very vocal this morning. His little whistles bounded through four or five of his favorite tunes. I decided he should not miss out on the unconventional breakfast, and laid out some pellets for him over a paper towel on the coffee table.

Cher climbed around the branches of her playstand carrying food pellets over to the water dish for a dip before grinding them to bits with her beak for consumption, balancing on one foot while clutching the food pellet in the other. She was eating in the way that conures do: in a tree, climbing with feet and beak while managing to hold onto a morsel at the same time. It is fun to watch her use her beak to climb while also holding a food pellet or two in it. She was of course on the lookout for soaring predators through the window and let out a few shrieks in response to an ominous profile, followed by laps around the room on the wing. Predatory threat is about all that can cause her to drop her food pellets while eating.

Lennon was content to do what cockatiels do: forage for his delicacies on a nice flat surface. With his enormous toes stretched wide he stomped around the table grabbing a pellet at a time and crunching it in his beak. Each crunch showered minuscule bits of food all around him, and is what led to my cleanup promise to Ms. Flock Advisor this afternoon.

After they had finished feasting both took a nap. These two birds don't normally interact with each other directly, but they are still a part of the same flock. It was funny to see them feeding off of each others behavior. Lennon could eat a house, I watch Coconut try to keep up with him in the mornings when they are normally fed side by side. Lennon can go on and on, and I will see Coconut just dipping his head in the dish and flinging pellets around. Cher, however, hardly seems to eat at all. She called it quits after about three pellets this morning and went into some preening before nodding off. Shielded by my book, I quietly observed as Lennon took notice of Cher and followed suit. He backed away from his pile of food, and retracted a foot while drifting off to sleep.

While the place was still quiet, with the feathered buddies taking their after-meal naps, I got up to refill my coffee cup. I came back to find that Cher had been stirred awake and Lennon had decided he had not got enough to eat after all. He was back to crunching his pepper-flavored pellets, and a hungry bunny had joined him on the adjacent couch. Kenobi decided to enrich his own diet with the volume of Vonnegut I had been pushing through all morning. He tried to carry it off when I reached for it, but the paperback proved too awkward for his little mouth and short front legs. If he had a set of thumbs, our library would be much less of a burden in the next move.

It's Raining Wrens

Birds around the world are falling from the sky just as this year gets underway and the media is all over it. The flock that died en mass in Arkansas was the first to draw everyone's attention, and one local's observation that the event "was like an Albert Hitchcock movie" gave many of us a little chuckle. If you've been in the dark about the dropping flocks, check out the BBC's coverage at this link. More and more stories of the like are finding their way into the mainstream consciousness as the days go on. Coupled with a few fish-kills that reporters have grasped onto, the end-of-days folks are starting their parties a year ahead of schedule.

The reality, according to the experts I've heard interviewed on the subject, is that falling flocks are not all that rare. It might not be something most of us see multiple times in our lives, but it does happen all over the globe. Those of us who live in the almost-but-not-quite-tropics don't really feel like winter has arrived until we've had our first big fish-kill. We got ours early this year, but it's never a sign of the apocalypse. My sense is that birds falling from the sky is in the news each day now because reporters are digging for it on the heels of the Arkansas massacre. The mystery behind it is without a doubt part of the story's intrigue, but it very well may be that the birds are sometimes just scared to their deaths. Living with birds, I believe this may be the case.

An ornithologist was interviewed on the radio the other day and he stressed that these events do happen, so this Arkansas event and the ones after it are not really out of the ordinary in the grand scheme. He ventured that the "scared by fireworks" hypothesis is probably the most likely, and the autopsies done on the fallen birds will not really confirm that. He explained that birds get scared, and that makes them lose their minds in extreme cases of panic. I've seen ours do that right in front of my eyes. They will put all of their energy immediately into getting away from the threat and smash into whatever gets in their way. Lennon's night-terrors are a perfect example.

Birds, at least the ones being discussed here, are prey animals. At the top of their to-do list each day is "don't get eaten." They live in a world where predatory eyes from above and below are constantly watching for a bird to make itself vulnerable for an instant. The only way to survive is to be skittish. They certainly can't fight, so they fly.

Birds are also excellent at staying in tune with their flock. When a flock mate gets scared, the rest get scared. This is also something that happens around the Feather Dorm on a regular basis. Several days ago I had Cher, Lennon, and Coconut out with me on a lazy afternoon. My plan was to let them entertain themselves while I got acquainted with my new Nook. Cher was glad to perch on my shoulder and preen, but Lennon and Coconut decided to do laps on the wing. Coconut was, as usual, seeking Lennon's company. My Nook had to wait while I tried to settle them down and give them each something more mellow to occupy their little minds. Coconut finally found the bunny fence and clung to it. Ten feet of tightly spaced bars were enough to provide him with endless climbing fun. For Lennon, a helping of Grape Nuts sprinkled on top of the refrigerator would keep him busy and blissful. With the little-guys set to their own tasks, I took my place on the couch and got ready to see what Nook had to offer me.

Pressing the power button on the device flashed the screen awake with an impressive little animation, but Cher was not expecting that. She was scared by it. The sudden presence of light, color and motion from the previously dormant device spooked her into the air. She streaked across the room sounding her alarm cries designed to let all other organisms in the jungle know that a plot against her life was afoot. Except that we do not live in a jungle. The screams jabbed at my eardrums and sent Lennon and Coconut into the air immediately. Three birds were circling and calling as I could only watch and wait for them to finally land. The birds circling my head were more panicked, and loud, than any I've ever seen in an A.C.M.E.-sponsored cartoon. After a minute or so they all found their own perches and the calls slowed down as they realized the threat had passed.

This was only one of many instances where one of the birds will announce a threat and the others will immediately fly into escape-mode. It is normal behavior for birds, and convinces me that a scared flock could become disoriented enough to crash into trees, cars, or the ground after being deathly scared by something like New Year's Eve fireworks. Many times we do not even see what causes our birds to take flight, their eyes are very keen and always searching for danger, so it becomes a game with Ms. Flock Advisor and I to try and figure out what caused the panic when our birds suddenly take flight and announce danger. Sometimes we can spot a hawk or buzzard circling hundreds of feet above through a window, but often we never see what causes the birds to panic. We just have to make the place bird-safe by leaving ceiling fans off and removing obstacles to flight. I've been brokering a peace agreement between Cher and Nook, it's going well.