Birds Might be Stupid

Maybe not all birds, and maybe not most parrots, but my bird - he's either a little stupid or very smart, or maybe I'm the stupid one - that's usually the case.

Just about every morning I bundle up in my sexy microfleece robe and I'm instantly warm and ready to work. It's become my Wonder Boys robe, only because I seem to never take it off, especially since we moved here.

Henry loves this robe - I *guess* because if I'm wearing it, it means I'm not going anywhere too soon. He wants me here at his beck and squawk at all hours of the day.

And usually my hair is down and a complete mess. Because if I'm going to schlub around the house in a robe all day, why on earth would I bother combing my hair? I can't be a crazy cat lady if I get dressed and GROOM myself. I have an image to maintain.

This morning was trash day - very exciting - and that means not only gathering up the trash, but scooping out the cat boxes so it's ALL gone and out of the house. To do this, I take off my cherished robe and put my hair up.

This is when Henry goes from being a goofy, loving pet bird to an insane, homicidal maniac who will kill me if I get too close.

The sweet pet bird sits happily on his tree with slightly fluffed feathers, chattering to no one in particular, then the maniac comes out with tail feathers splayed to full width, head feathers in the tell-tale triangle of death, wings pulled out from his sides and eyes pinning wildly while he makes an eerie trilling noise - the last noise you'll hear before he rips your jugular out of your neck.

When this transformation happens, I speak to him in quiet, soothing tones, go about my business and maintain as much distance as I can. He's been known to jump off the cage at me. Nothing more fun than dodging a crazed bird in mid-flight with a 1000lbs/psi beak coming right for you.

He kept up his menacing display while I finished the cat boxes & got the trash ready to take outside. I came back inside and thought I'd try a little experiment. I went to the bathroom to wash up, then I put the robe back on and took my hair down.

I came out and walked over to his cage and he was still prancing around like an idiot, but he immediately started talking to me instead of making that shitty noise that means he wants to see me dead.

I talked to him and kept my distance, but his attitude had instantly changed. He was still excited, but he was happy. A few minutes later, he was asking "do you wanna come out?" which means any/all of these things: I want to come out of my cage, I want whatever you're eating, I want to sit on your shoulder and look out the window, I'm in my cage with the door open but I've forgotten it's open - can you please let me out, or Those cats are really stupid and you should let them out - permanently.

He seems to know that if I'm wearing shoes I'll be leaving the house, even if I'm in the robe, if the shoes are on, he knows it's time to get into his padded cell and take his nap.

He seems to know if I'm putting things into a bag and zipping zippers, I'll be leaving the house. He's started making the zipper noise, maybe thinking I'll grab him along with the other stuff and take him with me.

What's really insane about all this is he's still just a baby - he's only 10. I have another 40 or 50 years (or so - we'll see how the vitamins do) to observe this strange creature and try to understand what's going on in that walnut-sized head. He's got another 70 years or so to learn fluent English so his next caretaker might have an easier time figuring him out.

Wino Parrot

My bird is a wino. A long time ago I gave him a teeny tiny wee taste of red wine, and ever since then, if he sees me in the bar opening a bottle of wine, he makes his excited calls to let me know he would like to have whatever I'm having.

Because he's a lazy drunk, he's not bothered to learn how to say, "Dearest mother, if it's not too much trouble, I would like to taste a tiny drop of that fine vintage you're uncorking," and instead just repeats what he already knows: "Hi Henry!" "Hi Henry bird!" "HI!" "C'mere Henry!" "Wanna come out?" "Meow!"

Even hardcore boozers know how to sweet talk someone into sharing the hooch. But he does seem to have a well-developed palate for an animal that has to dig its food out of a bowl with a beak.

The problem is, once he tastes something he likes, he never forgets, so as I sit here enjoying my glass O red, he's over there repeating everything he knows how to say.

This is how I've learned how to tune out most types of annoying sounds, just like those moms at the store who seem blissfully unaware of their bratty kids barking "Mom! Mom! Mom! Mom! Buy me this! Mom! Mom! Mom! Mom! MOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMM!"

I'm a Falconer...

...Of sorts. Henry and I have a new trick.

I was cleaning in the bar the other day and Henry was on his play perch in the front room. He really wanted to be where I was, so he flew the 30 feet or so to me from his perch, but couldn't quite figure out how to land on me or my hand, so he made a u-turn in the air and flew back to his tree.

Last night I'd been working in my office for a spell and when I came out into the bar, in he flew, right to me, but this time he landed on my hand when I held it up!

I was so impressed with his new skill, I practiced with him today to see if he could do it again. I stood in the bar and called him, and after just a few calls, he took off and flew right to my hand. Then I sent him flying back to his perch by saying Go home! and he flew right back to his tree.

We did this a few times and he never missed, which is impressive when you consider he's had very little flying experience in his nine years. He's almost always clipped, but after this last molt, I let him continue growing out all his flight feathers.

I don't like getting him clipped when he hasn't grown out all his feathers - there's always the risk that they'll cut a blood feather and then it's just a stress-fest until they get it pulled. Gah - no thanks. I'm sure he'd agree.

For the past few months he's been flying around the house now & then, which isn't really a good thing, because there's always a chance he could fly into a wall, a window, or an open toilet or some other hazard, but I've noticed he is really agile and able to maneuver well around doorways and avoid the ceiling fans.

He needs to be clipped, but this is way too much fun!