Cherry Headed Amazon Parrots in Florida? Yeah, we've got that too.

The day I went to see what would be my house for the last fifteen years, I had a visitor.

I looked through the house to the backyard to the Bougainvillea arbor.  I have managed to keep that alive, and trimmed and I still look at it as a bit of contemplative beauty.  Even with all the thorns, the flowers will draw the eye.

I did make it to the yard and get to see it first hand.  Walking past it to the back of the yard, I heard some unaccustomed chattering.  

I looked up and spotted a cherry headed amazon parrot.  I chattered back at it "Meh Meh Meh MEH!".   We held a conversation for a short while.  

It must have been a good omen.  I look at the wires when I am back there looking for the parrots and sometimes I spot one. 

Truth be told, the yard is chock full of wildlife, some of it belongs, much of it is carelessly introduced.

I've spotted more of the parrots, many other species of birds some of which are just passing through on their vacation here over winter.

I've seen Green Iguanas, way too destructive to be welcome, as large as six feet.  Dinosaurs really, eating away at the plants and shorting out the power lines with an electrical pop.

I've been told that there are Pythons and Boa Constrictors back there as well but I have not spotted them.  The Black Racer snakes are quite enough, thank you.

And I've seen these exotics on my many walks around town.  I've transitioned away from my normal inline skating workouts while the lab rats are filling up the ERs lately, so I am walking all over town.

This morning on the wires the flock had arrived.  Behind Hagen Park in Wilton Manors, there was a flock of Cherry Heads up there making a racket.  I have been told that this is a small flock and in other parts of Fort Lauderdale there are flocks that are five times or more individuals there.  I do know that this particular flock shuttles between the High School and the Park dining on choice fruits growing on the trees.

I guess you just never know what you will see if you look for it.  As for the Parrots, they're pretty common here.  If I don't hear them I am surprised.  You get to expect them while out with the dog in town.

How To Keep A Parrot Happy - Don't Blink

I have had Oscar, my Orange Wing Amazon parrot since 1986.  It's entirely possible that he will outlive me.

That is common with the midsized and larger parrots, they have long lives, and there was a Yellow Naped Amazon who lived in Homer Alaska to the ripe old age of 106.

Yeah, Alaska.  Of All Places.

You end up having to find coping strategies with them.  You see, it's not like with a dog.  Dogs bond in a pack mentality, friends is a good way to describe it.  You work together as a team, even if that work is sitting on your lap and keeping you comfortable.   They do jobs, they give you companionship, they give you help in many different ways, and they give you love.  I have even heard a pretty good discussion as to how the Human Race would not have survived had it not been for the assistance of the dog.

But Parrots?  Well they're a very strange creature in their own right. 

You see where Dogs see you as a co-worker, Parrots see you as a mate.

Yes, for 29 years I have had a small green mate in my house.  It takes getting used to. 

There are better bonded parrots.  I had a Goffin's Cockatoo named Sonny who was so closely bonded to me that he would "get loud" until I opened the cage, and no matter where I was in the apartment, he would then hunt me down so that he could be near.  Then he would act silly.  Backflips, barking, chattering, and the like.

Squeak, my Grey Cheeked Parakeet used to ride all over Chestnut Hill, Philadelphia inside my shirt.  I would walk into shops, he would climb out just enough to see where he was, then if he liked the people there, he would climb out to say hello. 

But Oscar is somewhere in between indifference and bonding.  He is named Oscar because he's a bit of a

grouch.  It's a coincidence that he's green like the Sesame Street character and that was what got me calling him that. 

He will interact with you but only on his terms.  I am his favorite person, which is to say he won't shred me to pieces with that beak of his all of the time.  I can get him to go back into his cage when I say "Go Home", and he shows his appreciation by talking to me.

At sounds louder than a Jet Engine at 3 in the Morning.

So I have learned.  He is an intelligent creature and requires mental stimulation.  If he doesn't get it, he makes his own, learning how to bounce sounds off of walls for echo location, especially if those walls are three blocks away.

At least that is what I think he's trying to do.  I can't fathom why else 130 db are necessary other than to gauge distance.

But there his cage sits on the room divider.  I keep oddball things there to keep him from eating the room divider because anything that is wood will be chewed.  We would like to keep the divider in one piece since we are somewhat attached to the architectural element of it.

I found a long time ago that he will go quiet if I put toys on top of the cage.  Beach Balls are the best since they are light and too large for him to get his beak around.  They also won't destroy anything when they are ejected in his favorite game of "Make the Human Fetch".  Anything left on the room divider is fair game to be ejected, to the floor, post haste.

Don't leave anything "food related" on there because he does want to sample.  Usually at 130 db. 

Yes, the word Hello gets used loudly and often since he has figured out that I pay attention to it.  In his little world, Hello really means "I Want".

I want that food you have.

I want your attention.
I want a shower in the rain.
I want it NOW.

It's like living with a two year old version of Verucca Salt from the Charlie and the Chocolate Factory movies. 

At 130 db.  A pain inducing one hundred and thirty decibels.

So if you see me covered in rain, parrot feathers, some scattered food, and a couple of scratches on my arms, it's a normal day in the life of a parrot owner.  Just don't blink.  He'll be into something else real soon.

Teaching The Dog To Beg For More Breakfast

"He knows who to go to, you're the soft touch in this house!"

Yes, I am.  Everyone in this house begs food from me.

Oscar, my orange wing parrot, knows that if he says "Hello?" enough, I'll probably cave and give him a sample.  Mango Season is starting, the neighbor's Hagen Mango tree is beginning to drop fruit.  They gave me permission years back to hit the tree for my Mango Needs.  It helps the people who live there because nobody wants a two pound fruit falling from 30 feet up smacking into their car.

It will leave a dent.

I must eat about 200 pounds of Mangos each year.   Strictly speaking I also pass them out to friends I know who enjoy them, and I make jelly which uses up a lot of them.   Mango puree with a bit of lemon is wonderful to bake chicken in, and the puree itself is tasty.  Recipes use up a lot of Mango in sauces.

Oscar knows that and he starts chattering, and moving to the end of the cage nearest me when he sees me making up my breakfast bowl of Mango Chunks and Yogurt.

I really should just add that to the blender and make a Mango Lassi, but this is easier.

What shouldn't have surprised me was when Rack, the McNab SuperDog (TM), began to beg for it as well.

I was having a bit of an Indian themed breakfast that morning.  A bowl of cereal was long forgotten as I grabbed the egg, mayo, and Curry Powder from the fridge.  Making a Curried Egg Salad Sandwich was easy, mash it all up in the cereal bowl, spread on the toasted English Muffin, and enjoy.  Just a dusting of Curry Powder on top.

Rack was there, boring holes into me with twin brown laser beamed eyes.

*Sigh* Rack, at least wait for me to get the stuff finished before you glue yourself to my side.

The toaster announced it was finished with a thump and I made my sandwich.  Surprisingly good this morning.  Time to add mayo to the shopping list.

That left me with a bit of curried egg at the bottom of the bowl.  I could rinse that out in the sink...

Nope.  Ok, Boy, here you go!

He proceeded to try to lick the white off the glass.

Some dogs are truly aggressive with begging.  Pawing your leg or arm.  Barking incessantly like Oscar and his "Hello" routine.  Other behaviors which are truly unacceptable.

Rack is like Lettie was.  Sit down nearby, in sight, and stare holes through you.  If he hears the dreaded "Not For Dogs!" he heads out to the other room, mopes, and stares from a distance.  I guess that's the McNab Dog Way.

Otherwise, when I finish, I tend to leave a little morsel in the bottom of the bowl for him.  I do this because his stomach was quite unsettled when he was a puppy.  When we got him, he was severely underweight due to worms, stress, and the trauma of being an Owner-Surrender.  He simply would eat only under certain conditions, and certain foods only.

If I ever met the guy who had Rack before, trust me, I'd have a "conversation" with that man.

Two courses are done.  Final course.  This was what got Oscar talking at me.  You simply can not out-shout a parrot.  No way, No how.

I began to slice some mango chunks into the orange bowl.  Rack came back sniffing.  The first time I gave him a mango chunk he walked away, I thought I was safe.

That mango was a bit under ripe.  A little sour, a little on the Yellow side instead of the bright orange I was hoping for.  I sliced the flesh away from the skin with the butter knife and piped up:  "Oscar?  Mango?".

"HELLO!"  "HA HA HA HA!"  "HELLO!"

When he learns how to say Mango, I am truly in trouble!

Rack feigned studied indifference.  I padded across to the living room, dropped a mango skin with a bit of sweet and sour yellow Mango flesh still attached.  May as well give him the bits I don't like.  He will work on that fruit, skin and all, through the day.  I gave him something to keep him busy.

All the gloves were off right about now.  Rack realized I was giving Oscar Mango so he wanted some too.  I heard a deep humming and realized that Rack was glowing with antici... pation!

I filled the bowl with 8 ounces of mango chunks, and 1/2 cup of plain homemade yogurt.  Lost in my own sweet reverie I was wondering if there were any more trees around ready for the picking.  It's still on the early side but have Mango Pole, Will Travel.

Rack didn't care.  Laser Beams were boring a hole through my mind saying "Feed Me, Seymour!".

I was in trouble.  "Let me finish my breakfast, will you?".

Rack doesn't like being told no, so he did his avoidance act.  Looked away just enough that I was in the corner of the eye.

I laughed at the pitiful display as I finished all but the last couple spoons of yogurt and one small bit of yellow mango.

"Here you go, Rack, Two treats today!"  I dropped the orange bowl on top of the curried egg bowl earlier.  You'd think he was starving with the gusto he tore into the yogurt.

I finished making up my coffee, quietly, as Rack tried to lick the orange off the plastic bowl.

The thing with him is the Social Aspect Of Feeding.  He's a weak beta dog.  Rack will eat only when asked, and invited.  If he's eating, he's very easy to disturb.  However if I am eating, being the pack leader, he will power through the meal and make it a point to finish.  After all, he's used to me giving him that last bit of food when I finish my meal.

I'm making a good approximation for how a pack of dogs, or even wolves, eat in the wild.  The Alphas eat first, the Betas get the leftovers.  I'm speaking dog.

He understands.  Finishing the last bit of yogurt, I lift the two bowls from the top of his purple food bowl.  "I've got to rinse these for the dishwasher, boy."

I turn to my work and he proceeds to try to taste the purple to see if purple plastic tastes different from orange plastic.

All in all it's a good day to be a pet.

Oscar 1, Rack 0

When you have more than one pet, hilarity may ensue.

When one of those pets is much more fearful than it should be, it's bound to go much differently than you might have expected.

I got Oscar many years ago.  He's my Orange Wing Amazon Parrot, and he's named Oscar for a reason.  He can be a grouch.

But lately, his personality is starting to blossom.  He's demanding more attention, and he seems to be more interested in what anyone is doing around the house.

He used to simply sit in his cage and growl.  As in Leave Me Alone, I'm Going To Attack You If You Get Closer growl.

He did have a time where he was somewhat more cuddly but for some reason, he decided that wasn't for him.

Now he's deciding that he wants some human contact.

We are adjusting.

He sits in his TV Set sized cage on the room divider in the middle of the house.  I put him there so he can see everything that is going on during the day, and that he can basically sleep in peace at night since the dogs have always stayed in the bedroom overnight without too much running around.

Lately he has been asking to be let out.  Asking as in repeatedly calling "Hello" at an ever increasing volume that approximates the volume of the explosion of Mount Krakatoa.  I'm wondering if there won't be a visit from the City asking what is that noise and telling me that there have been complaints from someone screaming Hello and laughing repeatedly, but that's an entirely different story.

Once the door is opened on the cage, Oscar has been content to sit on top and watch the goings on with an occasional foray onto the room divider to clear the top of it of anything that I may have had the temerity of leaving there.  If it is in reach, a parrot will eventually chew on it.  Then they will either knock it off whatever it is sitting on it, poop on it, or sing to it.  Their choice.  Not yours, and it will always happen when you least expect it.

One day, I was sitting in my bouncy chair and I heard a soft movement of air in the house.   That was followed by a loud rattle and thump.

Looking around, I saw one green bird sitting happily on top of the door to the dog's crate.

Well!  This is new!

I turned my chair to have a better view.  Oscar didn't mind me but he was intent on staying on the door.

Rack was sitting in the crate, craning his neck to see what was going on.  Watching me, then Oscar, he was wary.

Oscar got bored quickly when he realized I wasn't going to chase him away.  Climbing down the cage after first testing the dog's mats on top for taste, he stepped down to the floor, then pulled himself into the crate.

I wasn't going to stop this, but a curious bird and a fearful dog, could make for a volatile mix.

I was able to grab my camera and walk into the living room for a seat on the coffee table.  This needed to be watched since there were many tasty things around for him to get into such as wallboard, woodwork, and fragile things inside the house that also included the dog.

Oscar had placed himself inside the crate as if in greeting.

Yeah, right.  Greeting.  That's what we will call it.

Rack is a patient dog, but not terribly assertive.  He waited watching Oscar.

Oscar used to preen Lettie when she would allow it.  She didn't allow it much, and it usually had to wait for when she was asleep and when I was brave enough to put him on the ground. When she woke up, she'd be out of the room in a shot.

Maybe that was what was churning around inside his head when Oscar was inside of the crate.  Go meet this new dog.  Maybe we can preen.

Oscar likes to preen.  If I stand next to his cage, my ear and my hair will get a thorough preening.  He hasn't gotten too rough yet, and I haven't ended up with a pierced ear but...

Oh right, Oscar, in the cage.

At this point, my mind was wondering how much longer would this last.

Rack was being approached by Oscar.  He was going to have his leg preened.

Nope.  Just Nope.

45 pounds of black and white fur flew out of that crate and trotted as far away from that feathered beast as quickly as it could.

Oscar remained in the crate alone.  He was probably just looking for a friend but he had ejected Rack thoroughly.

Then he actually laughed.  Some may say that parrots don't understand human noises, I disagree.  He's done silly things for his own entertainment and has laughed afterwords.  I think this was one of these times.  He laughed at the fact that he could eject a dog from a crate.

More like shooting fish in a barrel than anything else.

But it has established a pattern.  Oscar has found out that he can crawl into the crate, fly around the room, and visit.  Rack may not like it, but it will make for an interesting story.

After all, how many people can say that their parrot bullied their dog?

Oscar Really Doesn't Like Swag Balls

I have always liked what I'll call when I'm being charitable, swag.

You know, the junk that you get for free when you go to a trade show?  These days, now that the Republican Induced Recession is fading away, business is getting better.   That means we're getting better Swag. 

My buddy up in Atlanta, Craig, went off for a visit to San Francisco.  For me that would be a trip of a lifetime, for Craig, he got to learn more about Virtualization and VMWare.  I can hold my own with some of the technology, but his knowledge on the subject is encyclopedic.   He handles a large server farm worth of virtual computer servers for a company up there and can quote you chapter and verse over a beer in a bar.

That's my test of knowledge, how coherent can you be when you're on your second beer on a subject.   Trust me, he knows his stuff.

About the second day of soaking in the Virtualization Goodness, I got a picture of the inside of his hotel room with the second bed covered in Swag.  Tshirts, flashlights, blinky things, a USB hub shaped like a little man, that sort of thing. 

We were laughing about the oddball things he had gotten and I guess it struck a chord.   I have a few things from the Swag Collection, including that blue ball that caught my eye.  Having a pool helps with that thing, give it a smack and it blinks with a bright blue light.   A couple years back that quality of crap wouldn't be given out for free.  The last computer trade show I went to hardly had hard candy at the booths, and the booth babes were just starting to make an appearance in their midriff showing uniforms.

When I got that Box of Swag I opened it up piece by piece in the dining room.  Rack came over and started giving things a sniff.  I can always count on the curiosity of my McNab Dog to stick a wet nose in when something new shows up.  At the same time my own Oscar started chattering.

Oscar chattering is normal, having a parrot in the house means that you have to go out of your way to entertain them or else you will end up having a screeching mess.  You're not going to have a good time of it.  Step one, make sure that you have plenty of bird safe toys.  Un-destructable things that won't shatter when a strong beak grabs it and bites down, or when it hits the floor since both things will happen.

It also helps if they're not something that will scare Oscar.   I have a small beach ball that he hates.  I mean eye flashing growling hates.  He will peck at it until it bounces off that cage and into the dog.

The dog doesn't get it either.

When Oscar gets a bit too loud, the beach ball helps quiet him down as a result.

Putting junk on the cage helps him go and attack them instead of taking a chunk of beef out of my arm.  He'll spend time preening the ropes, chewing the fluff off of the tennis ball that is attached to the rattle, and shred the insides of the toilet paper tube instead of screaming at the music that almost always is playing here.

But he has a nemesis.  Anything ball shaped and larger than a plum is just too much.  That is why I was confused he was showing so much interest in the blue swag ball. 

I placed the swag ball on top of the cage and I heard a little fear grunt as he backed off to the far corner.

Interesting.

I picked up the swag ball and turned it around in my hand letting the light catch it.

Oscar started to flash his eyes in curiosity so I set it back down.

Beak made contact and ... the ball rolled away only to come back and tap his beak lightly.

Flap wings and regain stability, the green bird went after it again.

Tap.  This time the ball rolled off the cage with a bounce or three on the floor.

It was blinking when I put it back on the cage.  Oscar never expected that as he dove for the door of this cage for safety.   Blinking stopped after about ten seconds and he came back out. 

The Swag Ball is Evil and Must Be Banished.

Tap.  Not quite as forceful as before, plus I had it in a low spot where the toys roll to the center of the top of his metal wire room.

Parrots are exceedingly curious creatures.  They learn quickly.  They also don't like change.  I don't think that little walnut that passes for a brain can process why it rolled off the cage before but not now.

TAP!  The swag ball sat there.  TAPATAPATAP!   His dance school impression worked.  It rolled off the high spot and flew off the cage bouncing off the table and onto the floor.

Parroting in English Slang means to repeat something without understanding it.  In Oscar's Case, he parroted one of my own laughs at the ball as it hit the floor and rolled into the kitchen.  I swear this bird was laughing at the ball and at his success at banishing the evil thing in a triumph of Schadenfreude!

Luckily it was designed to hit the floor.  The ball is intact, the bird is happy, and we found a new routine.   After all, it does tend to quiet the little brat down for a while and he's interacting with me through the ball.

He's not brave enough to leave the cage on the room divider in the middle of my house.  I'm fine with that, especially that since I go absent minded from time to time and leave him out when I wander out into the great beyond of my yard in the middle of the South Florida Sprawl.   He feels safe there now that the Blue Swag Ball has been banished and is content to sit there, staring at me with red ringed eyes from the comfort of his home.

Swag balls or not.

Oscar's New Obsession

I don't particularly "get" tennis.

You buy tennis balls in bulk.  Hit them over walls and fences that never seem to stop that line drive.  Grunt and sweat, and try again.

At least it is harmless, even if I can't wrap my head around why people want to stand on a clay court on a hot summer day in the Florida sun.

It does have it's benefits though for us pet owners.  Those wild line drives.   I've found tennis balls around town.  I have found them a block away, which leaves me scratching my head.

I guess a Labrador retrieved it and lost interest.

Keeping a supply of them on hand, I tend to try for new uses for them.

I did try bouncing the things to try to get Rack interested in A New Toy.  Nah, he was bored with them.  Every so often he will pick them up and herd them into a spot so that they can be watched in case they escape and try to make a run for it.

Lettie loved the things.  If I bounced one into the pool, she would hover at the edge alternately looking at the ball, and at me, and asking if I would be so kind to get that for her.

Now.

Not later.

NOW!

She was an intense dog.

But Rack seems bored by them.  He'll watch them bounce after things with a Jeff Spicoli stoner look on his face then glance back as if to ask "You really expect me to get that thing?  You don't know where it has BEEN!".

I even tried Lettie's favorite trick.  Slice the tennis ball open to make a change purse.  Maybe a two inch slice.   Stuff it full of dog food or treats.  Then roll it past the dog's nose.

You just gave a dog a solid half hour worth of fun.  They won't be back for attention for quite a while.

Two problems with that.

First, Rack doesn't have a prey drive.  None at all.  He sees cats, lizards, snakes, and other things that go bump in the night on a daily basis.  Nothing.  He got hissed at by one of the herd of ducks we keep running into here.  Muscovy Ducks are to be looked at and ignored.

Second, Rack hardly eats.  It's something I worry about, but am finding ways to manage.  If I put a bowl down it is more of a surprise than you would expect if he actually immediately ate it.   He may ignore it for an hour or so and come back, or just skip the meal until the planets align and it is once again The Age Of Aquarius.

Peace, dude.


I have to put his food next to his bed so he can dine in the middle of the night while I sleep.   Just lol his head over the edge and get the food into his mouth.

Strange creature.

That left me with tennis balls.  All over my house.  Under the furniture.  Wedged on top of the dog's crate door to hold it open.  Under my bed.  Gathering dust.

Some of them are slit open to accept some tasty morsels in case Rack changes his mind, but I really don't expect that to happen.

The other day, Oscar got loud in the way only a parrot can.  He started chattering and screeching to the

conversation I was having in the house.  Here's where the tennis balls came into play.

Oscar was inside the cage.  He doesn't like New Things.  Parrots are prey animals, so New Things may attack.  Guilty until proven innocent.

A New Years hat that was saved got put there.  Oscar didn't like that but it shut him up.  After a minute or three I walked over and took it off.   Oscar calmed town and went back to chattering.

Then screaming started again.

Out came the tennis balls.

He's not completely terrified of the balls.   He knows he can reach under them, and if he gives them a nudge in the right direction, they will roll off the cage.

Which was what he did.  No problem, he understands that he can do it and it keeps him quiet until it hits the ground.

So this time I grabbed the ball with the slit in it.   I have a plastic loop with a couple rings on the bottom wedged into the wires of the cage.  He has pretty much given up trying to move that thing.  It won't go.

I got the tennis ball with the slit in it and opened it to wedge on to the top of the loop.  There is a blue plastic ball on there that keeps it in place.

So now we have a tennis ball that won't move.

Oscar is smart enough to understand that he can chew the opening, and the fuzz.  Since there seems to be an endless supply of tennis balls here in Wilton Manors that go astray at the park, I'm hoping he destroys the ball.

I added another two to the collection just sitting on the cage.

This particular morning, Oscar got loud when I was making breakfast.  Since I was going to sit next to his cage, I opened the door.  I would see if he got into anything he shouldn't have, so it was safe.

Up to the top of the cage immediately to investigate those three balls.

Two got knocked off in short order.

Oscar tried to push that third one, but it didn't move easily.

Grabbing the fluff, he managed it to the edge of the cage but it didn't fall.

Poor bird, you've been tricked yet again.

After a good solid 10 minutes of this, he merely accepted it as something that just was.

Walking over to the corner of the cage, he fluffed out his feathers and went to sleep.  Dreaming of the sexy ring neck dove that comes by the window to visit, no doubt.  They could share their avian dreams of tennis balls that can be ejected onto the floor with ease.

There's always a human to pick them up at any rate and set them back on top of the cage.

Silly bird.

Who knows.  Oscar could just be trying to get the dog to fetch.  After all, Lettie would do that.  Oscar would toss the ball off the cage, and Lettie would tear after it.  I'd find the ball later under the bed or some random piece of furniture, but by dog, that was where she wanted it!

I'm still finding those silly things.  Right where she wanted it...

Oscar, You Will Make My Breakfast Cold!

I had JUST set out all the food to make my breakfast when I knew I was going to have an interruption.

Hello?

Walking out to the kitchen, I checked my yogurt.  Needs another day on the counter brewing until it thickens up.

The milk and cereal was portioned out.

Hello.

A Challah Raisin Bagel for some cream cheese and home made cherry jelly was warmed, along with a pretzel roll for the eggs.

A bit of chopped onion for sweetness.

 Urp!  Hah Hah Hah Hah!

Buttering the Pretzel roll I wiped the non stick pan with the butter to get a nice even coat.  Toss the onions on the pan to clarify them.   Sweet onions made sweeter.   Placing a tile wrapped in Aluminum foil on each roll half, the heat would toast them in the butter and flatten them for extra crispyness.

In the meantime I would have my cereal and Challah bagel.  Precisely measured out everything, 42 grams cereal, 160 grams milk, 20 grams each of cream cheese and cherry jelly.  That should stop me from having a "heavy hand" with the condiments.

BRAKKK!  Hello!?!?!

Oscar, it's raining!

Hah Hah Hah!

Good morning, Oscar!

Urp.

I managed to finish the bowl of cereal.  Timing is good for the eggs to go on.  Immediately turn off the burners, pick up the pretzel roll halves that are toasted to golden brown perfection.  I pour the scrambled eggs over top of the clarified onions when...

BRAKKK! Hello!  Hello! Hell-O!

Oscar can't you say anything else?

Hello?

Rain, Oscar, do you want a shower?

If you have never had the experience of being around an Orange Winged Amazon Parrot, they like a daily shower.   Rain, the shower, a hose with a mister in the front yard, it's all good to them.   They love it.  You can't do it often enough.   It helps keep the dust and the loose feathers down, and they get an iridescent sheen to their feathers that is really quite beautiful in the right light.

I take the eggs off of the skillet and pour them onto the bottom of the pretzel roll...

HELLO!

Yes, Oscar, Rain!

Put the top on the eggs...

Hello! Hello!

Can't you say anything else?

Hahahahahaha!

Ok, Oscar Shower!

Hello!

I walk the cage out to the pool area.  It's raining enough that I could stand there with a bar of soap in the back yard and get my morning shower in.  Rinse off in the pool?  Not if I am caught!  I don't think the Salt System would turn soap into chlorine, I really don't.  Plus the mid 70s temperature of the water in April is a bit too invigorating for my tastes.

Immediately upon setting the big metal cage down, Oscar begins to enjoy life.   The wings open out broadly.  Feathers are spread to catch every last drop of water.  A general quaking and twitching of his body happens as the water is spread around.  The cage top vibrates on the pavement.

Rain gets heavier.  I think that I was in the middle of something, forgetting what it was while the feathered comic is enjoying himself out back.

A cooing sound happens as what can only be described as joy comes from the cage.

I remember what it was.  My forgotten breakfast.  I pad back into the house and close the door.

Oscar, You will make my breakfast cold!   Shower!  Rain!

When I reach the kitchen, the forgotten food was just warm enough to be perfect.   I guess Oscar's fun didn't foul my breakfast after all.

Oscar has his fun while I finish off the pretzel roll stuffed with onion and egg.  Not bad for a first try.  I'll have to do that more often.

Both the food and having Oscar out back.   Wet season is coming anyway.  I really don't mind a random washout of a day, and Oscar really does truly enjoy it.

Nice day if you're a Parrot or a Duck!

Strawberry Season is Not For Dogs!

Standing in my kitchen listening to Armin van Buuren back when he still announced in Dutch, thinking I sort-of understood what he was saying reminded me of a story.

I was cooking and reminded of a story about a friend, Tim who went to Apeldoorn in the Netherlands.  Staying with a friend there, he had a conversation with the friend's mother.  Speaking no English, and him no Dutch, he said they managed to get the point across.  Not perfectly, but they did seem to understand each other when they had a bilingual conversation.



In the middle of Armin announcing that the next song would be Saltwater by Chicane, I started hearing it.

Hello.

I knew it wouldn't be a quiet half hour.

Instead of hearing one of the more beautiful Trance songs written in the last decade, I was going to have to cook to a Parrot Symphony with Dog Accompaniment.

Breakfast was going to be creative.  I had some egg and raisin bagels I made and froze.  Shaved onions onto the skillet, prosciutto was going to be fried.

Hello.

A slice...

Hello.

Stare.

Of Swiss Cheese would be melted on the bagel after it toasted in the butter on the skillet.

Hello.

Head tilt, stare.

I was getting the full Monte.

I said hello to Oscar and said "Not for Dogs" to Rack.  Luckily he understands that "Not For Dogs" means you're not getting any.

Yes, I've created Pavlov's dog as well as Pavlov's parrot.

The parrot wasn't going to back down any time soon.

The kitchen filled with the sweet and savory smell of frying onions, the meaty scent of prosciutto, and the butter that I used to cook it all, as I reached for my...

Hello.

Coffee.

Can I walk away from the skillet long enough to get the cover?  Put the bird cage on the floor?

A Parrot's bond is not a friend bond.  It is a Mate bond.   If you consider that you want a parrot in your life, it really is a long term bond.  30 years is not uncommon and I've had my Oscar since 1986.

Armin said some more things in Dutch, and I picked up Art of Trance, Madagascar.  Another truly beautiful Trance track.



The first phase of breakfast was made, the dog had trotted out to stare out the back door.  Pavlov would be proud.  He's gotten used to having the tail end of my yogurt in the morning.  So much so that when I finish...

Hello.

with the bowl, he goes over to his food bowl to check if I put it there, even if he is watching me eat it.  I open the back door...

Hello.

and he trots over to the bowl expecting me to have already placed it there.

He's just early.  This is also where Oscar goes into high gear.  I'm slicing strawberries.

It's Strawberry Season here.   I'm the guy who once bought a flat of strawberries in a flea market in Melbourne, Florida and drove up the coast snacking on them while having two conures walk all over my arms trying to steal a bit.  One was my sister's present, the other I had for a couple years after.

Yes, I do like Strawberries.

I also...

HELLO!

Like yogurt, and I make my own.   Add a little whole cranberry sauce for some sugar and it makes up a rather nice bowl.  Two grams per calorie, Strawberries are easy on the diet.   I sliced up a large bowl...

HELLO!

poured a large serving of yogurt on top, and the rest of the can of cranberry...

stare

HELLO!

on the bowl.

This was getting annoying.  I stared down the dog, which goes badly when you have a very passive dog.  He trotted back out of my little kitchen.  I took the bowl of fruit and yogurt and did what I had to.

I ate it in the laundry room.

HELLO?

I did give Oscar a strawberry.  He's eating it now.  I didn't know that I could give them to the dog, but I'm on the fence with that.  Yet another food obsession.

At least the season is short.

Feeding Time at the Zoo or Service Pack 1, You Decide

My coffee table is full. 

Mind you, I almost never use it for actual coffee.  I prefer to set my coaster on the floor next to the low slung Ikea Poang Chair just inside reach.  It's also within Dog's Nose Range and he's getting curious. 

My McNab Dog, Rack, is already hyperkinetic.  There isn't a dog on the island that can hold a candle to my boy when we're outside.  He'll see a dog he likes or some certain people and he's airborne.  Jumping five feet into the air is nothing to this black and white spring.  We will just avoid giving my dog coffee, even if it is Half-Caff.

But he was much more mellow this morning, the edge seems to be blunting on his puppy hood insanity, finally.

The coffee table on the other hand has gotten filled with laptops.  My neighbor fried his install of Windows 7 and since I helped his mother get him the thing for xmas a couple years back, we're helping him get back on the road. 

Clicked on the wrong link did you?   We'll see what we can do. 

Meanwhile, I'm reworking a computer of mine.  It is the one I wanted to use this morning, so I wasn't looking forward to seeing a helpful message on my screen.  

At 7AM, I'm walking to my chair, setting the coffee mug on the floor on a bar coaster, and grumbling that there were some updates that needed to happen.  Ok, only three?  Lets do it.

That would be where I needed to actually Read what I saw on the screen, it was a Windows 7 Service Pack 1 update.

Techies know what I'm going to be doing for the next hour or so.  "Civilians"...

Sighing, it's time to go into the kitchen, make some breakfast.

Rack, my ever faithful sidekick stood at the entry to the galley kitchen.   Nut Brown eyes peering through my soul, I asked "Show me what you want, Rack?".  He neatly stood up and walked out to the back door.  I let him out thinking that it was great, now I could have breakfast in peace.

Hello!
*sigh*
Hello!
*sigh* What is it Oscar?
Here we go!  Boom!  There it is! Boom!  Herewegoherewegoherewego!  Bwa HAHAHAHAHELLO!BOOM!

I see we have a comedian.  I start up on the bowl of cereal and look out on the Cement Pond in the backyard.

HELLO!  HAHAHA!  BOOM!
Hmm, Boom, that's a new one.
Hello, Oscar.

I guess the backyard didn't "take", Rack is staring at my reflection in the back door.   I sidle over to the kitchen sink, and start talking to Oscar.

Hello, Oscar!  Good morning.
Head cocked to the side, Rack stares a hole through me from the yard.  He's wanting what I have or more likely what I haven't had yet for breakfast. 

HELLO! HellLOW!  Urp.
Hello.

More head cocks to the side.  First left, then right, the white stripe on Rack's head is signalling low flying aircraft to try to land at the Fort Lauderdale Airport instead of his head.

BahbahbahbahbahHELLObahbahbahWAHHAHAHAHAHAhahahaha!  HELLO!
I finish the cereal, pour out my cranberry and yogurt.  Really good batch this time too.
Head is tilting to the side still. 
HELLO!

I walk out to look in on the technology taking a nap in the living room.   I'm being yelled at by a Parrot, a dog wants my food, and my laptop went to sleep. 

Wiggle the little trackpoint on the keyboard. 

Do Not Unplug Your Computer.
Update 3 of 3.
Please Wait.

I'm now grumbling at Microsoft.   Hey, the cereal didn't make me "not hungry" yet, I've got a right to be grumpy!

Finally, I get low enough on the bowl of yogurt to set it into Rack's bowl.  He gets let inside and proceeds to attempt to lick the top layer of glass off the bowl.

Like that stuff do you?

Oscar is still making a racket on his cage.  I walk over and open his door.  By now Rack is finished and staring at me.  Fine.  Time for Bird and Parrot to meet.

I get Oscar out of his cage and lower him to dog's nose.  Oscar didn't like that and growled.  Rack is a complete paper tiger and trots off.   So I set Oscar on the floor.  You see, despite my technology timing problems, It Is A Good Day.  Why is it a good day?  Every day that a parrot doesn't poop on the living room floor is a good day!

Rack comes over gingerly and decides that he doesn't need to be quite so close.   I figure that this is a good quick meeting all said and done and set Oscar back into his cage.

My laptop chores are at an end, I hear the windows chime that says it's starting up.  May as well grind my gears on the machine.   Service Pack 1 is installed, I've got things to do.  If you are tied up for an hour, give or take, you may as well play with the dog and the parrot!  They seem to like that sort of thing anyway.

My Verbal Tic and the Parrot

We all have these phrases we repeat over and again.  Sometimes we don't realize it, but they are there.

It's called a Verbal Tic.  Just one of those things I guess.

Some folks start off a thought with a word.  "Well, I've ..." is common.  It gives you time to think, gather the rest of your thoughts before you run out of steam and wonder why on Earth you started to speak.

I didn't realize I had one until the other day.   Oscar the Parrot told me that I did by repeating to me what I say.

I'm used to making plans and following them out to their completion.  Part of being a Project Manager, I guess.  You get the plan going and then eventually you have to get started, right?

"Here we go."   Yep, it's mine.

I had been playing some music in the house in the Call To Flock hour.   That's when parrots in a flock will call to each other to gather themselves close for either the evening roost or the morning feed.  That racket you hear when the feral parrots fly overhead serves a purpose.  Other than to give you a headache or annoy you, that chattering and screaming will let the birds in a flock know where the rest are.  You see it in a Mall or a large shop when some kid is screaming for its Mom at the top of its lungs.

Shaddap both of you.  Never mind that, it's happened for centuries and will happen for centuries after this has been read for the last time.

My life tends to be rather ordered.  Certain things happen at certain times of day.  Meals are planned and served.  Dogs need to be walked.  There are trips out to the store.  Gardening to be done.   Many of those tasks have to be completed by more than one person, whether furred, feathered, or thin skinned.

That last one would be me.  Some of the others around me aren't quite so thin skinned, I'm sure.

We would go through the ritual of getting things settled and "Here We Go" dinner is ready.   "Here We Go" it's time to go to the stores and get a gallon of milk, some flour, frozen cherries, and some Fruit Pectin.

Yes, I'm planning on making more Cherry Jelly.  It's dead easy to do.

What I didn't realize was that telegraphing my intent was so frequent that the chattering that Oscar does now includes "Here We Go" along with "WAAAAAH!" and "Hello!" as well as other partial phrases and so forth.

He was barking and flapping and making a general nuisance of myself when I heard it clearly for the first time.

Did he just say "Here We Go"?
Yes I think he did.
I guess I really do repeat it enough.

Oscar the parrot has been with me since 1986.  He's a bit of a grumpy bird, but I guess he's finally finding himself someone to bond with.  I never thought it would be me, but I'm glad it is.

Now, if I could just convince him to let me listen to music loud once in a while without his own accompaniment, it might be a little better for me. 

There's this one Soca song that I want to hear on the speakers that was done to the NFL Football Sound Bed and if I can hear it, the neighborhood will hear "BRaahhhhSSS!" coming out of the house.

No You Silly Parrot, You Don't Want Espresso!

If you choose to take an animal into your life, it is going to change you forever.

It also is a lifetime bond, until one of you goes, that animal should remain with you.

If you can't handle that truth, get a beanie baby. They cost about a buck at the thrift stores.

On the other hand, they can make things much more interesting.

Having finished what I set out to one Sunday Morning, I decided I would like a nice mug of espresso.  Padding into the Kitchen, I snapped on the lights above my head and went to work.  I filled the maker with some water, put in the grounds - full but not packed, and then set it on the back burner on the stove.

Soon the elements were glowing red, and I went to work.

Hello.

I got the box that contained my green coffee beans and decided to roast some decaf.  If you get ...

Hello.

If you get unroasted decaffeinated coffee beans, they are a brown color instead of the green of the regular beans...

Hello.

Pouring them into the popcorn popper, I slid it out to the serving area on the other side of the kitchen window and closed the window down.  Plugging in the popper, I touched the timer on the counter to watch the time.

HELLO!  BRAAAAKKKKK!

What do you want you noisy old buzzard?

HELLO!

My noise detector had started to make it's warning sounds.  You see if you have a parrot in the house, they tend to be quite involved with what you are doing.  A parrot may be "just a bird" or a pet to you, but to that parrot, you are its mate.   They do not form a friendship bond, they form a pair bond or a mate bond with you.  Intensely social, a parrot or other bird will want to be doing what you're doing at pretty much any moment it is awake.

HELLO!  HELLO!  WHATWHATWHATWHATHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Yes, Oscar, I'm roasting coffee.   Want a bean?

HELLO!  OK! HELLO!  HEREWEGO! HEREWEGO!HEREWEGO!H!E!R!E!W!E!G!O!

I've had Oscar since 1986.  He's not at all a cuddly bird.  Named after Oscar the Grouch, he can be quite arbitrary and grumpy.  But he's mine.

Or rather, I am his.

I went about giving Oscar two decaf coffee beans, still warm from the first batch, and went back to roasting batch two.

HELLO!

I guess I had better turn the music down a bit, I'm well into the parrot...
HELLO
zone.

*sigh* Ok, Oscar, what?

The espresso maker was now gurgling away, I had another two minutes between first and second crack on the third batch of beans.

I raised my hand to scritch him behind the neck and he growled and walked away.

Ok you silly old buzzard, have your bamboo stick.

Hello?

The espresso was now done, the water had either been made to steam or deep dark espresso.  I poured it over the...

He-LOW!

French Vanilla Creamer and began to stir it with the Coffee Spoons that my sister had shipped me down from New Jersey for the holidays.  This one had French Vanilla

HELLO!

Chocolate on them so that I was going to get a deep and rich kick of chocolate and coffee and vanilla.

Noticing that the last batch was now on Second Crack, I made note of the time, gave it another 30 seconds for that darker roast I have been shooting for these days, and unplugged my aging popper.  That was the end of the...

Hello.

noise for the morning.  I poured the beans out onto a dinner plate to cool and went on stirring my espresso.

*sip*  Yes, Pat, that was a wonderful cup of...

Urp.  Braak.

Espresso.

Thanks!

Oscar Really Wanted His Picture Taken

There are some things you need to know about having a parrot.

They live long lives.  I've had Oscar since 1986.

They learn a lot of subtle things.  Oscar knows that I keep a bag of Pecans in the shell on the counter in the kitchen near the preparation for my coffee and my iced tea.   He learned that if he says hello enough, I will pay attention.   Two plus two being what they are, he realized that I'm a soft touch and if he gets "cute" enough, he can nag me for those pecans in the morning.

They can be very loud.   We have a "Parrot Safe Volume" that we can play music at in the house.  Music is anything that makes a sound.   If it gets louder in the house than the Parrot Safe Volume, Oscar will accompany it.  If I want to listen to music without having that accompaniment, I use headphones.   If you have a spare pair of really good noise cancelling headphones, you will know what I mean when I say that they can be a true blessing in disguise.

Parrots are curious creatures.  All of the above is a part of why people keep them.  They really do work their way into your life in a way that few other creatures can.  When I stood up and grabbed the camera, "Hello" came from the cage.  However, armed with a few words and sound effects, Oscar knows how to get his point across with inflection just like any other person, feathered, furred, or not.  The hello is not mere parroting.  He will sound like a little teenager who wants attention by saying "Hell-LOW!".  When he wants to say goodnight, he will make a whistle like a smoke detector we had in our house in Philadelphia back in the 1990s.  A Single Pure Tone when the light goes out is enough.  He will do that when it is time for bed, and he will do it when I walk out of the door to take Rack for his morning walk before sunrise.

So I was not surprised at all when I heard that "Hell-LOW!" from the cage this morning when I grabbed the camera to go out back and grab a few choice pictures.  As I got closer to the cage, he said it again, and kept saying it as I adjusted the date forward to be correct. 

Fine, Oscar, you get your time on the internet.  The next time someone accuses me of "merely parroting" something, I will thank them.  It means I'm paying extra attention and want to make sure that I get what they are saying.

Now just press the button and take my picture, I'm ready for my close up.

You Either Have Birds or You Have Music

When the weather broke, the windows opened.  All that fresh air blowing things from North to South in the house also brought in with it the sounds of the city.  On a quiet night, not that we get too many of those, I can hear traffic from the highways at least a mile away.  

All part of living in the city.

I've grown used to that, and accounting for it when I've got on my music.  If it gets too loud, I have mom standing over my shoulder screaming at me to turn it down.

Mom in this case is a parrot.  My Orange Wing Amazon, Oscar.

A couple weekends back, I set him out on the front porch and let him chatter with the feral parrot flocks we get here.  He ducked and covered when one of the hawks got a bit too close, but for the most part he enjoyed the change of pace.

So did we.   I was able to fill the room with some music I really wanted to experience.  Headphones off, speakers turned up more than Oscar would allow.

He gets to visit the Ring Necks and the feral birds, I get to play Beethoven, Armin van Buuren, and Earth Wind and Fire.

Early in that morning, it was cold.  70F, that's 21C for the Metrically Endowed.  Yeah, it's Florida and we actually look forward to those first mornings before the sun is fully up and the temps dip down below room temp.  Saves money and wakes up everyone.

We threw open the windows.

I think that was a mistake.  It wasn't even 6AM when Oscar started chattering at Boogie Wonderland played on the radio at low volume in the kitchen.  I don't think it was the Emotions and Phillip Bailey that he was singing with.  I think it was the Peterbilts and Kenworths on I95 on the other end of town coupled with the rest of the waking world.

I shrugged and got him to quiet down.   There is a big blue throw blanket that I keep on hand to cover the cage.  All I have to do is show it to him and ask him if he wants some time out.  So much for running any loud appliances, I lowered the volume on everything in the house, vowed to wait until after 7AM to roast my coffee, and let Oscar have his way.

He likes the music just like I do but I really don't want his accompaniment, and I'm sure the rest of the sleeping island doesn't either. 

The music got paused for a later time.

I had to bring him in shortly thereafter anyway.  As the city woke up, the trucks started moving around and the morning gardeners moved into position.  A herd of migratory lawnmowers began to fire up and feed on the St. Augustine Grass and errant Hibiscus that needed to be trimmed.

Life in the suburbs can be a loud place for a small green bird.

Hiding from The Parrot Zone

We had just returned from our dog walk, and were settling in.

Rack was through with his Perimeter Search, had a few whines at the closed door to the bathroom, and then went to the den between the couch and the coffee table where he'd be for the rest of the morning.

I made my Honey and Cinnamon drink, and turned on the internet radio.   I was in a Retro Mood this morning, so it was going to be some Disco.

Taking the first sip of the sweet concoction, I grabbed the laptop and did some professional research.   My mornings are geared around keeping Professionally Fit, so there's a lot of reading to do.

The music was playing in the background until there was a song I hadn't heard in a while.   That particular song really hit the spot.  I was in a Cerrone mood.  Some Symphonic Disco for the morning routine instead of the usual Uplifting Trance.

That was when I decided to try to push the music just a bit louder.

Oscar the parrot has a constant background chatter.   There's a trick.  Try to get the music so he isn't getting into the whole groove of it all.   After all, Parrots do Dance. 

If you want to listen to anything loud here, get the headphones out.  Noise cancelling headphones are the best for that.

However, this day Oscar was having none of it.

Why?  Well, this Green "Old Buzzard" does a pretty passable imitation of a String Section in an old Disco hit.

Between Cerrone's Paradise playing a rhythmic background and Oscar joining in to add an extra Violin-whistle, this house was anything but quiet.

Instead of begrudging the old bird his pleasure, I did the next best thing.   I grabbed those headphones, then searched for the track below.  Happily cancelling out the background noise once the radio went onto another song that I didn't care for, I changed the channel to some uplifting trance, then stopped it.

Headphones on, I was able to get my fill while letting the green bird have his.  Besides, every time I get stuck on Cerrone, I end up listening to more than just that one track.  Force of habit I'm afraid.

Attitude from a Parrot

Oscar has been with me since 1986.  The thing with a parrot is that they're amazing creatures.   A person who thinks that there is such thing as a dumb animal probably is one. 

Oscar has an attitude of being a hands off bird, except when HE wants physical attention.  Once a day would be nice, but he's ok without going outside or interacting with the dog, or other things that would require cleaning my shirt in public.

He is an observant creature, watching my comings and goings throughout the day.  All I have to do is say something to him and his eyes will "Pin and Flash" and the outer ring of orange red gets very bright, indeed. 

Never yell at a parrot, they can out shout you.  I learned that years ago and that if I wanted quiet in the house, I have to be quiet myself.  The stereo can get too loud and enter that zone that whatever is playing gains a parrot accompaniment of jungle sounds, "HELLO!", and laughs. 

Yes, he laughs just like I do.

That laughter set him off.   We were watching Lisa Douglas be totally paranoid about a blue feather on Green Acres.  The TV was just at the border of the Parrot Zone when I laughed.  Oscar laughed back and launched into his chattering.

No, Kevin, don't turn the TV up, that won't work.

He did.   Oscar got louder.

Kevin said "Oscar if you don't quiet down, I'm going to cover you up!".

Reaching for the remote, I turned the TV down just as Oscar had the last word.

He let loose with a Raspberry of epic proportions.  A "Bi Labial Fricative". 

Yes, I taught my parrot how to do a Bronx Cheer.

Then after he was finished, he laughed, feeling quite proud of himself.

Kevin asked "Did he just blow a raspberry?".

"Yep!  A good old fashioned Bronx Cheer!".
"I guess I've been told.  Gees, Attitude from a bird..."

How to get a Parrot to Bark

For years I've had Oscar.  In fact, I've had him since 1986.  He lives in a cage in the back room under the Bougainvillea where he is visited by the pigeons and the iguanas.

The iguanas I would rather just go away and never come back, but the pigeons are friendly enough.

Lettie doesn't like him much, but she hasn't actively gone after him in quite a long time.   I'd found that all I have to do is put Oscar's cage on the floor and open the door.   If Lettie notices, she casts the cage the evil eye and then leaves.  Oscar will then wander around looking for something to do like chew on the sea grass basket in the little end table.  

When Oscar's out, needless to say, he has to be watched.

People keep these birds because they do bond with us, and will try to interact with us.   The spot where the cage is at is one where he can see what's going on in the kitchen and the living room.  If he hears something, he's going to try to figure out what it is and whether he can interact with it.  I get hellos and Urp!s from him all the time when I'm baking.  If I laugh, he laughs back.

Today I finally realized that he barks.  Or at least he tries to bark.

I was watching a video of a man somewhere in Europe on a bike trail that I wish we had around here.   He had a pack of more than 10, probably 20 dogs all running along with him in a giant pack.  I Used to do the same with Lettie when she was able, skating for a couple miles at a slow pace but that did not work out.  I was too fast for her to keep up, and there just was no way she'd do a 30 mile workout with me.

This guy has it down pat though.  Riding gently, taking the dogs for a run, they did what dogs do.  At one point there was a dog that decided that it was time to greet the world with a bark.   That was when I heard a response from the back room. 

Oscar was barking back.

Every morning when I see him, he says to me "Urp" as if to say hello, then literally does say hello.   On the other hand, I didn't know that that noise was his bark.  Yes, he speaks "Dog as a Second Language".  It is a bit slurred, and since it is in his normal register it would be a small breed like a chihuahua.

I have a green feathered chihuaburd living with me.  Right now, he's barking at the laptop video that you see below.

A Frog, A Parrot, and A Thunderstorm

It had been a wet October.  Storms would come in off the ocean, stay for a while, and then move on their way lazily up the coast. 

Sometimes they'd stay all day.  Others would arrive late at night like a drunk falling in from a bar, loudly proclaiming their presence with a noise that would wake you from your slumber.

This day was more of the lazy day.

Standing in front of the kitchen window, stirring the coffee and absentmindedly munching on some toffee peanuts that I didn't need from a discount store, I spotted the little dark colored frog migrating Eastward toward his new home.

There was so much rain falling from the roof that it's home got flooded.

In the background there was music playing.  A bad tribute to Empire Strikes Back on the air, Darth Vader's memories being evoked in time with the snack and the hopping.

Dum Dum Da-Dum (Munch, Hop!) Da DA Dum Da DA Dum (Munch, Hop!).

It was a good solid rain bringing a white noise to the concert.

DA DA DA Dum (Hop!) Da Dum Da Da Dum (Crunch).

Hearing the flapping in the Florida room, someone was begging for attention.   Oscar, the Orange Wing had decided that he wanted to enjoy this storm too.

(Crunch)  Oscar, Want a Shower?!?!
HELLO!  (Flapflapflap) URP!
OK, Shower!
(Munch)  Urp!

I set the cage on the floor, slid open the door to the back yard and set him on the deck.

Deciding that I really didn't need any more of those sweet and salty snacks, I went back to tending to the coffee.  My old friend was out there doing acrobatics inside his home trying to catch every errant drop in a flutter of Green and Grey, Orange and Black.   Feathers spread open and wings splayed to the last inch, he was in his glory.

(Hop Hop JUMP!)  Oscar was being watched.  The frog had decided that this was all too much and leapt for safety under the bougainvillea at the edge of the property.  The Wildlife was having a pleasant morning. 

Why my Parrot is in his Terrible Twenties

Intelligent pets take finesse.  You're in it for the long haul.

I've had my Orange Wing Amazon Parrot, Oscar since 1986.  His personality evolves continuously.  Now that he's decided to be a part of the flock instead of keeping himself apart, he's insisting on being heard.

That's why his cage is on the floor at this moment.

Yelling at a Parrot doesn't work.  He'll learn to yell back.  Any parrot will yell louder than you will so it's not going to help.   There's a cockatoo that lives three blocks away and when the wind's right I can hear him at least a block from his home.

I've set the cage on the floor a mere 3 feet from my knee at the moment, after telling him I was going to put him outside so "he can play with the hawks".  Better to keep him inside where the local wildlife won't inspect the mango sitting on the bottom of the cage.

He is why I have found an excellent pair of $3 noise cancelling headphones to listen to music while I am trying to get things done.   We learned where the parrot zone of noise is and keep the sound in the house to a minimum.   Since the dog is getting profoundly hard of hearing, she's not adding to the drama preferring to sleep the day away.

When you have a curious feathered Einstein living with you, they demand their own attention.  My neighbor from across the street has learned to talk to the parrot quietly and make sure you remove the baseball cap.  He does this because from the moment he comes in, Oscar is making his jungle noises to get his attention.  Say hi to the bird and let him get it out of his system.

Like having a toddler isn't it?  Why is the sky blue has a special quirky poignancy to it because you can understand it.  Brakk, squawk, squeek, whistle does not have the same weight.

So now that he's on the floor I've just opened the door to the cage so he can walk around.

Being a social creature he's trying to make friends with Lettie, my dog.   She's not fond of that.  In fact the latest trick that the parrot has taught the dog was the Go Into The Bedroom trick.

Here's how it goes.

I open the cage door, and Oscar comes out.  Walking down to the floor he looks for the scraps that the dog left from that dog biscuit that I gave her about an hour ago. 

Not understanding the theory behind Letting Sleeping Dogs Lie, Oscar stealthily approaches.   By Stealthily, I mean, saying Hello and "Urp" and other jungle noises.   I guess that's Orange Wing Amazon for "Hey let's play".

Lettie is still asleep since she can't hear this.

Oscar walks over to Lettie and tries to preen her.   Now, I know that it's meant as a gesture of friendship.  I've stood next to his cage and he'll walk over and preen my hair, even going so far as to gently grasp my earlobe.

But to a 12 year old, mostly deaf, Mc Nab Dog who is fearful of other's shadows as well as the shadow's owners, this is a call to action.

Lettie understands that one is not to eat the parrot.  He's a tough old bird and wouldn't taste well anyway.  She takes the high road.

Standing up, she barks at the errant reprobate of a bird four times, then trots out of the room.   It's always four times, maybe that means something in Dog, I don't know.

Being curious, Oscar has done his deed after moving the dog so that he can pick up the dog mat and check it's texture, then move onto the sea grass basket and try to see if he can get in a few chews before I tell him to go home.

No, Oscar, the dog's mat hasn't changed and I still don't want you chewing on the furniture. Now, you've had your fun and "Go Home!".

Having said all that I watch as the mostly green bird waddles his way back into the cage.   I lock him up and take the time for a nice block of piece and quiet.

Should last five minutes.

Want the Dog? Call the Parrot.

I'm in a wierd feedback loop of a relationship here.   Yes, that squealing you're hearing is just the normal way of life in this house.

I've got a Mc Nab Dog, which is Canine for intelligent but fearful 12 year old Lettie.

I've got an Orange Wing Amazon, which is Avian for mischievous and crafty Oscar who I have had since 1986.

And of course I'm in the middle of it all.

My Lettie is a bit jealous as well.   If I give a treat to Oscar, I've got to have one for Lettie.   If I give one to Lettie first, she still wants another.   With a dog, that shows where you are in the pack.  If you eat first, you're ranked higher.

So I give Oscar his treat first and Lettie mopes and acts as if she's got to try harder.

She does this by becoming superglued to my calf.  Or both.  There's a lot of glue going on there.

It's mango season here in South Florida, and I love the things.  I keep picking the fruit and gathering it from the trees that I've been told I can do so, and the kitchen right now has a scent of mango about it.  Oscar and Lettie both love mango also.  

I'll make up a bowl, 10 ounces are 200 calories, and there's the dog glued to my leg, and the parrot yelling at me "HELLO!" for samples. 

Tripping over the dog, I bring Oscar the pit with a little fruit still stuck to it, and now Lettie's getting insistent.

Jealousy, thy name is Dog.

Cause, effect, dog begging, parrot speaking... it's normal here.   If I look at the cage and say Oscar, I have a dog watching me.   If I give the dog her cookie, I hear "HELLO!".   After all, Oscar's just bold and dumb enough to try to take that cookie away from Lettie.

It's so very Darwinian here.   First the snack gets past me, then it's up for grabs.  Just like having toddlers or worse, twins.  Now, let me put the cage on the floor and open the door.   Oscar's rattling around that Mango Pit from yesterday and Lettie's asleep.  I have a feeling a dog's going to get a visit from a feathered friend.

The Parrot That Eats From The Dog's Bowl

In the series "To The Manor Born" is a wonderful character named Mrs Poo.  She is introduced in this short you tube clip.

She's a Czechoslovakian woman who was fond of quoting sayings.  I don't know if they were true or not but the one that came to mind was her pronouncement that:

"The cat who eats from the dog's bowl gets her whiskers bitten off"

If you have the time, and I've set the clip up correctly, you can hear her say it yourself here, but just manually jump ahead to 7:58 in the clip.  It didn't embed correctly for me.


The series was a wonderful gentle tale from a different era in Britain, and I've been lucky enough to have seen it a couple times all the way through.

I was reminded of Mrs Poo and that saying yesterday when I let Oscar the Parrot out to wander around.   Lately the old buzzard has been getting more friendly and as such, more noisy.  So instead of yelling which only serves to get him louder in competition, or putting him outside which only serves to draw opossums, I took the low road.

Picking up the cage, I set him on the floor next to me where he could be watched by both me and the dog.

As a prey animal, he did not particularly care for that.

That was until I opened the cage door.  As his habit, he climbed on top for a quick look around.  Mrs Dog didn't care for the bird being there, so she kept a wary eye out.

Stalemate, all was well.

As it was time, I wandered to the kitchen for my next mug of coffee and brought out a dog biscuit for Lettie.  When I settled in, Lettie paid attention to the biscuit and got excited but didn't get up from her mat another five feet away.  I placed it on the floor half way between the dog and the bird.

Of course the bird grabbed the biscuit.   Oscar ran down the cage. While the dog was being told "OK go get the cookie" and didn't respond, Oscar grabbed the cookie and went back inside the cage with his prize.

Lettie being a gentle old dog, more fearful than anything else, simply looked at the scene.  If it is possible for a dog to have a "nonplussed" expression of confusion and disappointment, that was it.   She was not happy at all and decided that "I've had enough of this".   Leaving the room to me and That Bird, she went into the bedroom and ignored us for the next hour.

Luckily dogs memories are a patchy thing and all was forgotten when she returned later.