Pickles The Parrot Returns: My Continued Adventures with a Bird Brain (13 page)

Tents are great peek-a-boo places and on one
occasion, Pickles was getting a kick out of poking his head out at
me like a jack-in-the-box and yelling peek-a-boo. I stood next to
the cage answering
I see you
each time he
popped out. After the last time he did it, I snuck around to the
back of the tent and hollered peek-a-boo through the other end.
Well! He was NOT expecting that and he flew out the front with a
loud ACK and ended up hanging from the tent by one talon. As he
swung from it, he shouted ‘I SEE YOU!” I was laughing so he ended
up chuckling about the whole thing too. He climbed back into the
tent but faced the opposite way this time, figuring I couldn’t
surprise him that way, and we continued the game.

At some point, I went around to the other
side and surprised him again but this time it didn’t startle him
and he tried to turn around in the tent. There isn’t enough room
for turning and in his efforts; he went turtle in a squished little
ball, wedged between the walls, legs flailing. When he finally
righted himself, he decided this game wasn’t fun anymore, told me
to
go home
and then lay in his tent
sulking.

We have 2 large cages for Pickles – one of
them quite large. We started out with the smaller one, which is
quite adequate, but after a couple of years we bought him a nice
roomy one. He used that for a few years and then we decided, since
he only really used it for sleeping and because it was taking up so
much room in our livingroom, to change it back to the small cage.
He’s happy in either one but I think, if he has the choice, he
prefers the smaller one.

Once morning comes, Pickles is content to
stay covered and quietly talk to himself or play with his bucket
toys for as long as it takes for us to get up and let him out. Once
out, the day begins with happiness and lots of joyful sounds and
cheerful conversation.

“
My navigation's a little
off since the wing clip.  Daddy's shoulder was my intended
destination as he walked into the room but his crotch was where I
crash landed.  His PJ's aren't well cushioned for talons and I
didn't mean to grab his nads but I don't know why he carries
his baggage on the outside like that.  He should tuck it in,
like us birds.”

“
I've been up to no good
lately so daddy grounded me - he clipped my wings.  I don't
really mind cuz when I can fly, I get real ornery and I don't like
feeling that way.  It's FUN getting clipped!  Daddy puts
me on the back of the couch and when he snips I laugh & dance
and go Woo Hoo!  Cuz feathers are flying all around and I
think it's funny that my feathers can fly without me!”

“
Daddy went away ALL day
yesterday and left me all alone with mommy.  I refused to talk
to mommy all day except to do that sound that shatters her ear
drum.  I'm used to having daddy home lately so I pouted all
day.  I gave up and demanded my lights off, my almond snack
and to go to bed and be covered.  Right after that, daddy came
home but by then I was like - yeah, whatever, jerk.  This
morning I was really mad because I forgot I was mad and I
talked to both of them.”

“
One time, mom got mad at
dad and told him he was about to become 'that funny smell
coming from the attic'.  I was kinda worried about him but
then I thought - well, at least he would cover
up that funny smell coming from the basement.”

“
I court my daddy's hand - I
talk to it, kiss it, offer regurgitated food, dance for it - and
for all my wooing, it rejects me. I guess I’m not good enough for
it. Maybe I’m from the wrong side of the tracks.”

“
I got regurge all over the
back of daddy's hand and he tried to wipe it on mommy.  I
thought he'd appreciate it and if I'd known he was a regifter, I
would have eaten it myself.”

“
One day, me & mom &
dad will be dead and gone and people will look at all the nice
pictures we left behind and never once suspect the insanity that
went on our house.”

“
ooooo, there was a bag full
of stuff under the TV and I was determined to see what was in
it.  The TV's next to my cage and I kept climbing down to
investigate but Daddy kept yelling at me to get back up - ruining
everything.  But eventually, he left the room and I was able
to get down and drag the bag and all the goodies all across the
livingroom floor.  The bag was full of dirty, poopy talon toys
cuz mom's basket was full.  Dad caught me and said
"Pickles!  ewwwww!".  I looked up and said
'mmmmmm!"  There's nothing wrong with poopy toys -
what's their problem?”

“
Daddy says, when he met
mommy he started noticing things that he never did before, like
birds singing, dew glistening, butterflies, stoplights.”

When we first brought Pickles home at three
months of age, he accepted us both equally. I explained in my first
book how this all changed a year or so into our relationship when a
man came into the shop and teased Pickles before I could react and
after that, Pickles didn’t like any men – including Neil. We had
read about parrots becoming ‘one person birds’ but refused to
accept that. How could we have a normal family life if Pickles
couldn’t get along with Neil. We worked with PBAS and it fixed the
problem but rather than explaining it myself, I’m going to insert
an article that Neil did for Good Bird Magazine a few years
ago.

The Myth Of One Person Birds
- by Neil Abbott

When we first welcomed
Pickles into our home and lives he was loving and trusting. It was
August 2002, Pickles was 3 months old and both Georgi and I were
thrilled with the way he responded to and accepted each of us. We
owned and operated a fly shop at the time where he was quite at
home interacting and socializing with customers. There was plenty
of space behind the counter for Pickles and his stand.

That fall an incident
happened in the shop. A large burly fellow had been coming in
spending time at the counter thrilled with Pickles. Then one day,
before we could react, this self-professed birdman went behind the
counter, had Pickles, and was teasing him by grabbing at his beak.
Pickles was running up his arm screaming and biting while the guy
continued trying to grab at his beak. The episode only went on for
seconds before Georgi was able to end it, however, since then
Pickles exhibited a dislike and mistrust of men, including
me.

In the beginning Georgi was
the primary caregiver. She spent more time handling and playing
games with Pickles than I did, yet, I was still able to care for,
handle and interact with him. After the above incident he was
withdrawn from me and often gave me nips as if disapproving of my
interaction with him – not always – but there was definitely a
marked change from his former trusting and cuddly nature with
me.

In October I began working
out of town, only returning 3 or 4 times a month for a night or two
at a time. When I did return Pickles was genuinely thrilled to see
me – going on about “daddys home, woo hoo!” – he wanted to be held,
scratched or just sit with me. As the months went by – even though
he still was thrilled to see me – he began biting me. I returned
home full time the following April and throughout the summer the
biting became more frequent and more severe. I was still handling
Pickles a lot so not every opportunity led to biting. This was
confusing to me since I couldn’t figure out what I was doing right
when he didn’t bite or what I was doing wrong when he
did.

During this time Georgi and
Pickles had become fast friends. They played extensively and of
course Georgi was rarely nipped and never hard. She tried to help
me read Pickles, which I admit, I wasn’t doing a very good job of.
She showed me how to talk to him when playing – telling him
“gentle” and “good boy” – and being able to recognize when he was
too excited or worked up for interaction. It’s hard to say how much
headway was made other than I was attempting to change my
behaviour. Although success was a long way off, the concept of
changing my behaviour would be crucial to the eventual relationship
Pickles and I would enjoy.

Again in October 2003 I
would work out of town. I spent some time home during the summer of
2004 but was away again that August. Still Pickles was thrilled
when I came home. Still Pickles was biting me. I wasn’t spending
enough time with him to say I could read him or understand his body
language. I might or might not get bit after setting him on a
perch, offering him a scratch or handing him a snack. The bites
were painful usually drawing blood. If I was home for a day or two
it was unlikely I would escape without a wound or two or
more.

Looking back, fear and
uncertainty on my part had minimized contact between us. While I
believe having a healthy relationship with me would enrich Pickles
life he wasn’t living a deprived existence. He was enjoying a
wonderful relationship with Georgi throughout this period as
Georgi’s “Pickles Stories” would attest to.

Mid May 2005 I returned home
for good. Pickles was now 3 years old and he had become a one
person bird. I recalled an article I had read years ago. I don’t
remember the magazine or the author but I’ll never forget the
content concerning one person birds – specifically CAGs. She called
it selfish and cruel. That birds should not be deprived of other
humans in their flocks. That most parrots will out live their
original owners and must be prepared to trust other humans. That if
you have a one person bird you should look at what you are doing
wrong and what your motivation is to cause the
situation.

It was never our intention
to make Pickles into a one person bird, however, circumstances had
created the situation, and now with me home, Georgi and I were
determined to make it right. It was about this time Georgi was
involved with the BAS group over an unrelated behavioural issue.
Through that experience we both gained a greater understanding of
behaviour and positive reinforcement. We had never used discipline
or punishment with Pickles but then we never fully utilized
behaviour modification through positive reinforcement.

We developed a
plan.

It was important that I
would not replace Georgi. Enhancing my relationship with Pickles
should not in any way diminish his relationship with
her.

It was decided any contact I
had with Pickles would be fun. Snacks, going for walks, bringing
him to the dining room playstand on “party” nights. I would not
handle him in situations that he may not view as absolutely
positive such as putting him in his travel cage, putting him in his
cage if we had to leave him alone or returning him to his cage on
“party” nights. The idea was to reinforce that every interaction
with me would lead to a reward. I would also become the primary
caregiver. I would let him out in the morning, give him most of his
meals, share bananas and clean his cage at night. He viewed me and
my activities with curiosity at first yet as far as we could tell
fully accepted my new role.

Even though I was handling
Pickles more I was bleeding less. The only time I was getting bit
was when we were playing. Georgi would coach me but I was still
having a hard time reading him. I think part of it was getting past
that just because he wanted to play didn’t mean he wouldn’t bite
and just because he would turn his head to beak me didn’t mean he
meant to bite. One night we were playing, he lowered his head for a
scratch, I complied, as quick as he turned his head to my finger I
pulled away but still got bit. Georgi asked me why I pulled away.
Obviously because he meant to bite me I reasoned – didn’t the bite
prove that? “No” she told me. “ When he’s in a mood like that
there’s no way he meant to bite – it was you pulling your hand away
that caused it.” It took a conscious effort to leave my hand the
next time the situation arose. To my surprise he gently held my
forefinger in his beak as he attempted to regurgitate food for me.
I had seen him do this with Georgi but it was a first with
me.

I had thought that was the
turning point but in fact it had been weeks since he had bit me
without provocation. He had learned to read my body language before
I could read his. This had only taken a matter of weeks and I found
the more I trusted him the more he trusted me. When he started
playing rough Georgi taught me how to calm him by gently speaking.
Some games he couldn’t be trusted around your hands – change the
game and he could. Another thing was to be positive and happy. He
picked up on that. If I was excited so was he – that could be good
or bad. I learned to make confident, deliberate movements around
him and to never force the issue if he showed any
reluctance.

At one point we were getting
along so well it was next to impossible to have him step down off
my hand. His favourite snacks are pine nuts which we give him for
reward, treats or most times he asks “wanna snack”. We withheld
them and only gave them to him for stepping down. If he asked for a
snack I would have him step up, do a brief walkabout, then give him
the pine nuts after stepping down. In less than a day Pickles was
back to stepping up and stepping down on command.

Last summer, after playtime
on the couch he was reluctant to go “home”, knowing it was time for
“lights out”. We devised a game. His bowl of pine nuts would be
hidden in a kitchen cupboard. Then we’d go off on a snack safari,
looking through all the cupboards, Pickles would stretch and cock
his neck to search each one, shouting “THERE’S the snacks!” when
the bowl was found. Satisfied he had uncovered his snacks he
happily went back to his cage for the night.