Thursday, March 09, 2006
CLAY
I have a new grandbirdie, and that's his name.
He arrived just recently because his older birdling, F.R.E.T., was lonely and tended to sulk, which sent "mom" on a guilt trip for not having enough time to spend with him.
First she tried a recording of her voice on a cage-friendly mechanical device that also incorporated a mirror. When FRET figured out the mirror bird wasn't real he returned to sulking. Next she tried a cuddle buddy which is a piece of fake fur tied to the cage so the bird can cuddle up to it. (Yes they actually sell these in pet shops.) FRET was not impressed for a second with fuzzy fabric as a friendly companion. He moved to a different perch. Finally she put a radio on a timer. Grandbirdie was having none of it.
When FRET concludes he has been forgotten, he gets angry and delivers the mad chirp so no one has any doubt about his state of mind. Then he bites things, preferably things that are warm and flesh colored, for which he gets spritzed with a water atomizer, after which he flies to the cage then moves to the far side of it to sulk, threatening menacingly if any hand should enter.
It seemed that the only possible solution to the sulking bird was another one. Preferably one that could sing, and preferably one that would not annoy the sulker unduly. But what if FRET disliked having a cagemate? What do you do with two parakeets who will not share a cage, when there is really nowhere else to put a second cage? First you see if Mom would be willing to have a permanent housebird. When that doesn't work out, you sweet talk your boyfriend.
Having solved the potential problem before making it, she went shopping for the perfect companion. The pet shop lady said either male or female had the potential to work out. With a female you get eggs, and possibly dead chicks. That's not a problem with a male, obviously. Clay seemed to fit the bill. He is smaller. And younger. And too dumb to realize that his new cage mate might consider eating parts of him.
When parakeets adopt their new servants, they usually travel from the pet shop to new digs in a small dark box. It's not unusual for them to refuse to eat for a few days until they conclude their new surroundings are non-threatening. Clay-in-the-box was deposited on the floor by the birdcage. One end of the box was opened. Clay backed up to the other end of the box. FRET moved to the side of the cage where he could get a better view of the proceedings. The other end of the box was opened. Clay squeeked and ran out. FRET chirped. Clay chirped. So far, so good.
After a few minutes Clay was offered a finger. He hopped on and got the grand tour of the place during which he decided to preen while sitting on the finger. Even better.
Back to the floor in the vicinity of the birdcage. Open the cage door and wait. FRET flies down and inspects the newcomer at closer proximity. Birds get together and FRET preens Clay. Will this harmony last?
A couple of hours later I called my daughter.
"Well, is anyone bloody yet?"
"No. In fact they are both sitting on the feeding dish perch and eating out of it together." Has hell frozen over?
They spent part of the night squashed together on the short perch at the top of the cage. Apparently FRET is not territorial.
The next day my daughter got home after dark. She had not left the light on, and the birds were asleep. The light, of course, woke them up. FRET let out a loud mad chirp and started pecking everything plastic in the cage. But he didn't attack Clay.
Looks like the transition from single-bird household to two bird sanctuary is completed and was rather uneventful.
Still, when I call her up, my first question remains "Is anyone bloody?" and her response so far has been, "No, there aren't even any feathers on the cage floor."
There have been happy chirps from the birdcage. No singing yet, though.
This really was way too easy!
