Friends?

Don't believe everything you see!  Max and Calypso were peacefully on their cages.  I was studying on the couch.  Calypso flew over to her cage, when I snapped this picture.  But he just wanted to be a bully!  After ringing her bell of disapproval, Max climbed down to walk over by me, and Calypso reigned happily until I put him back where he belonged.

RIP, Beeps

As I briefly mentioned earlier, I made the very tough decision to euthanize Beeps on June 15, 2014.  This was a very tough decision, and I still miss him every day.  I probably will for the rest of my life.  He was only 16, and should have lived to at least 30.

I adopted Beeps almost accidentally.  I'd adopted Calypso in 2004 because he appeared to love Thomas while we were at the rescue.  If I'm being honest, at the time rescue caiques were quite rare, and I wanted to adopt Calypso partly because of that.

We got Calypso home, he recovered from his abusive home, and, once settled in, strongly preferred me.  (Perhaps he can sense sociopath?)  Thomas broke his femur when, in December 2005, Calypso latched on in a terrible bite.  Thomas walked over to the couch, pried Calypso off of him, but Calypso took an unfortunate bounce, landed on the floor, and broke his femur.  He was terrified of Thomas after that, even though I can't blame Thomas for prying off a bird who was grinding into his skin.  He even had the presence of mind to go to the couch to pry him off so Calypso would be cushioned.  This is not evidence of his sociopathy -- I have plenty of that!

In any case, I kept reading about how caiques get along with other caiques.  At the time, I was not as discerning about believing what I read on the Internet, so when another black-capped caique -- and one about the same age! -- was surrendered to the rescue in 2006, I decided to adopt him, too.  I had idyllic visions of the two of them sharing a cage, preening each other, etc.  But all of my grand plans were dashed when I got Beeps home and I realized that not only did he not get along with Calypso, but he also didn't get along with Max!

I had Beeps for just shy of 8 years, and much of that time was spent making sure that he neither attacked another parrot, nor was attacked by them.

Over the years, I grew to love him greatly (he was so adorable!)  I learned his quirks.  For example, he would launch flying attacks at me when I'd read a book on the couch.  I could read a magazine on the couch.  I could read a book anywhere else.  But when I'd grab a book and read it on the couch, he'd attack.  He'd also attack if anyone lifted their arms above their head.  He'd attack if I carried a Tupperware container in front of him.  The list of his triggers kept growing, and I abided by them in order to have a happy bird.  He was something else.  I loved him so.

He had a distinct whistle.  At the end, he'd shout "Pretty baby!"  If I did the whistle, he'd shout, "Pretty baby!"  This was the only way I could get him to speak on command.  He also had a demonic voice in which he'd start chanting, "Babycakes, babycakes..."  He only knew three words -- "pretty," "baby," and "cake/s," but he knew how to use them for full effect.

I'd noticed that he had trouble pooping.  He'd try, but nothing would come out.  Sometimes, poop would stick to his vent.  I took him to all of the avian vets (certified or not) in the city, but no one could figure out what was going on.  He still seemed to be his normal self, but parrots are masters at hiding illness.

One day in May, I came home from work, and he was listless and had prolapsed.  It looked like a red balloon was hanging out of his vent.  I rushed him the the emergency vet (who happens to be certified avian!)  She cleaned him up, fixed his prolapse, and stitched him close.

I moved him to a small, sleep cage so that he could recover.  I put the cage in my room, and we had a great last month.

He'd fly to my laptop as I was on the computer in bed:

He was not happy about the antibiotics and pain killers he had to take, but he dealt with it with aplomb.

We went to the vet several times a week, trying to figure out what was going on:

In the car, I'd play a CD of his favorite music and, when he wasn't too scared, he'd whistle along with me.

In the morning, I'd let him out to explore as I got ready for work.  Many times, I found him hanging out on my pillow:

After several weeks, and several thousands of dollars, his prolapsing kept continuing.  The vet said I could try a surgery with a less than 10% success rate.  I knew that he was suffering, and it wasn't fair to keep him alive for my selfish desires.

I made the very difficult decision to euthanize him.  As I'm typing this, nearly three months later, reliving it is bringing many tears to my eyes.  I'm so sad this his parents were captured and that he was born in captivity.  He deserved to live in South America, in a large flock of caiques.  He deserved to be able to have a family and fly free.  Instead, because of selfish humans, he wound up in my home.  An unnatural environment for a parrot, and an environment that eventually caused his death.

Here is the last picture I took of him. The vet allowed us as much time as we needed to say goodbye.  I had grabbed a tissue and placed it in the palm of my hand.  I was trying so hard to be strong for him; so that he wouldn't sense my sadness and feel sacred or sad.  Inquisitive as ever, he found the tissue and made a toy out of it.

I called my parents to let them know what had happened.  They drove the hour to see and comfort me.  My mom had brought a special cloth to use as a shroud.  My dad dug Beeps's grave, and I placed him in my back yard.  I put a paving stone over where he lay.

They also helped me to clean his cage and move it to the basement.  I wasn't up to the task alone. I had Beeps's toys in a bag, and parts of his cage still in my living room.  Calypso paid Beeps homage by walking over to the debris and making sad sounds while ritualistically bobbing up and down.

Since Beeps's untimely death, Max has started making his whistle.  She never did this when he was alive.  Even though Calypso and Max didn't get along with him while he was alive, Beeps was still  part of their flock.  I showed them his lifeless body, hoping they'd understand.

I miss Beeps so much.  I know I made the right decision -- I consulted with my most bird-savvy friends/acquaintances.  I couldn't keep him alive and suffering just for me.  Yet sometimes I am still overwhelmed with sadness that I couldn't make this right.  A feeling that I failed him.  I loved him so much, and I truly believe that he was as happy as a captive parrot can be.  I will miss him every day for the rest of my life, and I always look where he is buried and think about what an amazing being he was.

He survived some of the most horrible abuse I'd ever heard of (before he came to me.)  He was a survivor.  I am so lucky to have known him.

After-work routine

The past few weeks, I've started a new after-work routine with the parrots that we've all come to enjoy.

In my small apartment, I don't have enough room for them to be in a common living room, as they were in my house, which means that they have their own bedroom.  This isn't ideal, as they don't get as much ambient attention when I'm doing things, unless I make it a point to get them out.  Having them all out at the same time in a room without their cages can be tricky, as they start posturing and starting fights.  I need to be on high alert at all times.  This means that I usually rotate parrots (Max and Calypso together; Beeps separately, since he can't get along with anyone) who are out with me.

Once I have a house again (crossing my fingers; in a few months if inventory improves!) they'll be in a common area again so this won't be an issue.  Each bird respects the others' cages, so they can all be out with light supervision.

That was some wordy background!

I have moved a comfortable chair into their bedroom, and I sit there and read for at least an hour while they play.  This reading isn't always the most productive, as they frequently want to interact with me, so my book gets postponed.

I took a few pictures of Calypso's march to attention.  He starts by hanging off of his cage door, to be as close to me as possible.  And super cute, as well.

After a few head scratches, he moves around the same level as I am, making kiss sounds and whistling.  (He continues to be the most photogenic parrot I have known):

Caught in mid-scratch:

Before I know it, he's on the ground, coming over for some more personal attention:

Not to be outdone, as soon as he's on the floor, Max has to be on the floor, too.  I try to keep them on opposite sides of my chair, though yesterday, when I didn't have my camera with me, they were both ripping up the newspaper that's under Max's cage!

Beeps stays on his cage, as when he tries to venture down, Max goes after him.  He's happy, and I make sure to spend time with him everyday in a one-on-one situation.  After over 6 years of living together, I would have hoped they could be better friends!

A video of Beeps.  Every time after I do a certain whistle, he says "Pretty baby!" It sounds clear to me, but when he does this for visitors, they can't understand him.  (ETA: Apparently this video is not working.  Ever since blogger "improved" their interface, I have had trouble with videos.  This has been going on for years!  I will try to figure it out tomorrow.  For now, just imagine Beeps saying "pretty baby!" after I whistle.  This happens twice.)

When he saw me taking pictures of Beeps on his cage, Calypso had to climb to the same spot on his cage for attention:

However, he didn't do anything exciting enough to warrant a video!

With Calypso off of the floor, Max flew up to her favorite spot: the arm of my chair, where I scratch her head while reading:

I am currently reading "In the Garden of Beasts" by Erik Larson.  It's about the American ambassador to Berlin during Hitler's rise to power, prior to World War II.  It's non-fiction that reads like fascinating fiction.  Highly recommended!

Tomorrow I am running a marathon.  I have not been doing much speed work, so I am not anticipating that great of a result.  Additionally, the weather forecast is not fabulous.  It will be that terrible in-between weather that is so difficult to dress for!  I am maintaining a good attitude and determined to have fun, even if I'll be slower than last year.

Rivalry!

When our first family was still intact, Max and Calypso got along.  They certainly weren't friendly, but they never attacked each other.  Now that we're a smaller flock, that's changed.

Max has developed an animosity toward Calypso, as evidenced here:

I knew she wouldn't hurt him with me watching, which is why I took this video.  It just cracks me up how she tries to use tools (the hanging toy) to hit him.

As a single lady, this has become quite the challenge.  Max hates the caiques.  The caiques hate each other.  I am only one person!  It is very challenging to have them out at the same time.

I plan to buy a house in the next few months, and I'm hoping them to design a space that works for my parrots.

Flock dynamics and life

If you can believe it, it's been nearly 4 months (!) since I've been in my new apartment. I have a hard time believing it's been so long.  My lease is over 1/3 over, which is exciting as I hope to buy a house next spring.  I am tired of worrying about the parrots making too much noise for the neighbors, and I'd like to be able to take Basil back when needed.  (But my house in the suburbs, which is on the market, needs to sell first.)

The parrots and I are acclimating well.  We love our new neighborhood.  Beeps loves to fly to the windowsills and watch all of the activity below.  Then he yells "pretty baby!" at the passers-by, but I don't think anyone but me can understand him.

I had hoped that my reduced flock would get along better, but Max and Calypso still attempt to drive Beeps from the area.  I have to be very careful to make sure he doesn't get injured.  Most nights, Max and Calypso play on the stand, like here:

while Beeps hangs out on my leg, under my protection.  I still don't understand how Max can be fine with Calypso but harbor such an extreme hatred for Beeps -- they are both male teenage caiques!  Get along!

All three of the parrots have had to acclimate to sleep cages.  They had been getting up with the sun -- near 5 am -- and beeping, whistling, and yelling, "Good morning!  Wanna get up!" which I'm sure my neighbors didn't appreciate!  And since I can't change my window trimmings due to my lease, I had to take other steps.

Previous to sleep cages, I had been getting up at 5 every morning and putting them into their (covered) carriers, which was obviously not sustainable.  Now I can finally get a full night's sleep!

I'll try to get a picture up, but they now love their sleep cages, which is nice, as they'll be able to take them with them if they have to board at my parents' house when I go on vacation.  If that ever happens :)

Once again, I am amazed at the resiliency of parrots.  Basil and Stella continue to do well in their homes.  Rocky is even enjoying it at the rescue (he has still not been adopted.)  And Max, Calypso, and Beeps have acclimated far better than I ever imagined.

In fact, before, when I'd ask Max for a kiss, she'd usually make one kiss sound.  Every since I've been single, she responds with TWO kiss sounds.  Somehow, she knows!

Max attempts to irritate Beeps

but luckily he does not rise to the bait!

I think she might be missing Stella and the teasing they used to do to each other.

Last week, I had Beeps in his cage since I was painting and he kept flying to my shoulder.  Calypso and Max were still out since they weren't flying to me.  But Max decided to try to cause some trouble, anyway.

Beeps appeared oblivious to Max, and he continued on his merry way:

Pants macaw

Most nights, Rocky likes to spend some time in Thomas's pants, chipping up 2X4 slices.

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In the comments, Beloved Parrot had asked how the other parrots were taking Brian's demise.  They don't seem to be affected at all.  Last Friday, before I buried him, I took his body around to show everyone, so they could see him.  Stella did a double take, Max and Rocky just stared at him, and everyone else (Basil and the caiques) seemed oblivious to what was going on.

When he was alive, no one ever really seemed to consider him part of their flock.  He didn't call back and forth with anyone, and we were so careful not to allow any sort of physical interaction (until, of course, the fatal accident.)  For them, life is back to normal.  The humans in the house are not yet to that point.

At the rescue where I volunteer, the budgies are in a flight cage.  None are tame.  Yesterday, I was watching the budgies play and enjoying their antics.  Several came up to the front of the cage, intrigued by my presence.  I hope they find good homes.

Obsession

Beeps has recently started flying into the kitchen on a much more frequent basis.  He's not looking for trouble; he just wants to be near us.  Unfortunately, this riles Calypso up, who feels the need to keep track of Beeps's every movement and frequently threaten him.  Beeps appears mostly oblivious to this.

Calypso stops what he's doing -- whether that's playing with a favorite toy or eating, but usually one of the two -- to stare at Beeps.  This continues until Beeps flies back into the living room.

Both caiques have been extra loving to me in the past week.  This has been most welcome.  Now, if only they could put aside their differences and befriend each other!

Grey togetherness

The greys still do not physically interact at all, but I've recently realized that they are rarely more than a couple of feet away from each other.  They basically ignore the rest of the birds, but are fascinated by what the other grey is doing. Stella seems to be the one who usually follows Max around, though it is occasionally the other way around.

Here they are, destroying the mail pile:

I think Max was looking for a little alone time, by perching on the seat of a chair that was pushed in to the table, but she discounted Stella's detective skills:

I thought perhaps they'd both sit on the chair, but Max took off as Stella arrived, and then Stella followed Max to the stand:

This morning, on my newly washed counter:

They've even taken to both being on the same stand.  Before, this was Max's stand and Stella stayed on the green stand:

They are so interesting to watch.  I wish I knew what they were thinking.  Do they keep such close tabs on each other because they like each other (and, if so, why don't they allopreen?)  Or do they not like each other and have to make sure that the other one doesn't get preferential treatment?  Or am I ascribing human feelings to them and they're just doing it because of the flock mentality that's hard-wired in their brains?

What would happen if we introduced another grey to the flock?  There is the sweetest timneh ever at the rescue right now.  My curiosity will have to go unsatisfied in this area as we are in a really good place and don't have the room for another bird right now!

Greys and greens

I had some greens left over from making Andreas's food for the week.  Max loves tearing into greens, so I'd set the bunch on the stand; she immediately went down there to destroy.  I know I should have expected this, but Stella also climbed down and the two of them got to work:

Amazingly, this went on peacefully for probably 20 minutes or so.

Max needs a break

When we were bottling, the greys were in the kitchen. Of course they would occasionally start chasing each other around, usually instigated by Stella. Max must have gotten tired of this, as she went to sit on a chair that was pushed in to the table, giving her privacy:

She stayed down there for probably 30 minutes or so, until we left the kitchen and I took her with us into the living room.

Cage sharing

Yesterday, we were doing some bottling in the kitchen.  Our birds who live in the kitchen (Calypso and Brian) were there with us and so were the greys, who'd flown in as they like to be where we are.  Basil was hanging out on his cage.  Beeps was locked inside his cage as bottling is an activity that triggers him to attack us.  Rocky was free to roam around the living room, which usually means he's ripping up phone books under his cage.

What this boils down to is light supervision of the parrots in the living room (Basil, Beeps, and Rocky.)  By "light supervision" I mean that we listen closely for any sign of trouble (Rocky and Basil are notorious tattle-tales; we also listen for any flight) and I go in to check on everyone approximately every 3 minutes.  I must also add that Rocky and Beeps get along and ignore Basil.  I would never trust light supervision with Brian (due to size difference) or for any birds who have shown any problems with each other in the past (Max-Beeps, Calypso-Beeps, Max-Rocky, Calypso-Basil...)

On one of my three-minute checks, this is what I found:

Yes, that's right.  They were both in Beeps's cage!!!  Rocky will frequently spring Beeps from his cage by opening up one of the food doors.  However, yesterday, unlike previous times, Beeps decided to stay inside the cage with Rocky!  They were both happily playing with Beeps's toys!

This is not acceptable.  Even though they get along, I didn't want to run the risk of something happening in a confined space where it would be difficult to easily escape, as only the food door was open.  We opened the main door, as well as the nest box door, to provide options.  I stayed there until the cage no longer had two occupants.

Beeps immediately climbed on the nest box door; I wasn't fast enough to get a picture of him perching on it, as Rocky decided to exit as well, prompting Beeps to take flight:

Rocky on the nest box door; of course he had to come out to threaten me a bit, but then he went back inside Beeps's cage.  We decided to let Beeps stay out, as long as he didn't come into the kitchen to attack us.  He didn't; preferring to go inside Max's cage and play with her toys (Max was in the kitchen with us and does not know about her intruder.)

Back inside:

Every time I'd go in to check on them, he'd threaten me a bit through the door, but then retreat back to the inside of Beeps's cage once I'd left.

About a minute after one of my checks, Rocky started screaming.  Even though three doors were open (regular door, nest box door, food door), he was upset that he was inside the cage!  Due to our policy of parrot personal responsibility, I told him it was his duty to improve his situation.

With an audience, this is the first way he chose to approach his problem:

As soon as I returned to the kitchen, he got himself out of the cage and then walked in to the kitchen.  I suspect he wanted to show me that he knew how to get out all along.

Night fright club

On Fridays, we don't run, so we sleep in a bit later than usual and then have a more peaceful morning.  This morning, Thomas got up at 5:30 and I was still in bed.  About 10 minutes later, I hear one of the parrots thrashing about their cage.  It was Max, having a night fright.  Thomas went over to make sure she was OK, and then I heard him say something like, "I guess you can come out since you're up anyway."  The parrots are supposed to sleep until 7 so they get 12 hours of sleep.

Guess what happened next?

That's right -- Stella had a "night fright."  And yes, I am putting that in quotes as I suspect it was faked as she saw that it worked for Max.  Thomas thought the same, as I hear him say to her, "I probably shouldn't reward you for this, but if you want to come out so badly..."

I told him this better not have started a trend as they could injure themselves by having "night frights" frequently.  Yet again, these greys are too smart for their own good.

Grey doings

Yesterday, the greys were at it again.  They just love to egg each other on.  Max was on the counter, so Stella had to fly to the counter.  Then, Max noticed one of Stella's favorite things -- the neti pot.  Stella likes to fling this to the ground, then fly after it and attack it a bit.

I'm sure Max would have shown no interest in the neti pot, but she knew it would bother Stella, so she went straight there.  This had its intended effect, as Stella ran over:

Claiming victory, after Max vacated the area.  Note that Stella didn't want to play with it, she just wanted to make sure Max couldn't.

This morning, Max was obsessed with the garbage -- despite repeated removals, she kept flying right back there.  She couldn't even forage in the garbage since I'd taken it out yesterday, so nothing was in her reach.  She was therefore stuck chewing on the outside bag.  Just to be clear, she is not allowed to play in/near the garbage, but she had a one-track mind this morning.

Apparently, this proved endlessly fascinating to Stella.  Perhaps surprisingly, once Max was removed, Stella did not fly there herself.

Together

I was just speaking with a friend at lunch about the strange flock dynamic my greys have.  I still don't have their relationship figured out.  Sometimes it seems as though they want to be friendly, but then one will buzz the other.  Regardless of their intent, they are very aware of where the other grey is and what she is doing.

Taking turns keeping an eye on each other:

Later, one of them went to the floor, so the other followed:

Reverse escape

Last night, I was alone with the parrots as Thomas was working late.  I was cooking dinner in the kitchen with Brian and the greys.  My new world birds were all in the living room.  Beeps was locked in his cage as he'd been picking fights so I needed to be able to closely supervise him when he's out, while the other three were out.  Basil and Calypso just stay on their cages and while Rocky does roam, he doesn't bother the parrots and mostly stays out of trouble.

I do keep an ear open for trouble, and Rocky and Basil are both world-class tattle-tales who make a fuss if anyone -- except themselves -- misbehaves.  Luckily, Basil will tell on Rocky and Rocky probably would tell on Basil (who's not yet done anything to warrant such a reaction), so everyone's covered.  Of course, Basil does occasionally cry wolf, but I find that endearing.

Suddenly, I heard Beeps fly to the other side of the room -- but how could this be as he was safely locked in his cage?  I immediately ran into the living room and saw this:

Which, upon further examination, was actually this:

That's right -- Rocky let Beeps out of his cage so that Rocky could go inside!  Smart guy; he likes to visit Beeps's cage every night to scavenge for whatever Beeps didn't eat.  (Beeps does this to Rocky as well; luckily their preferences complement each other -- frequently Rocky is eating Beeps's food while Beeps eats Rocky's food.  They get the same food.)

Last night, because Beeps was locked in his cage, so was his dinner, which meant Rocky had to work a little harder to get to his food.

As soon as I tried to take pictures, Rocky climbed out onto Beeps's dish:

And then came over to threaten me; this picture is Rocky in progress; he wanted to get as close to me as possible to make his threat most effective:

I left before Rocky could get in threat position, so he had to follow me into the kitchen to finish the job:

Meanwhile, Beeps was happily on Rocky's cage, playing with Rocky's toys and eating Rocky's food.

Beeps got put back in his cage for safety, and was let out once I could go into the living room and supervise carefully.