How Time Does Fly

Happy New Year! My how time does fly. It's been forever since I posted last. My apologies for the blog dead zone. Things are busy, and I've been distracted by much.

The birds are doing well. We've added a couple more feathered children to our flock. Miss Mozilla and Miss Cookie. The little ladies joined the family in late October as a belated birthday gift to myself. I think the boys were glad for the female company. Miss Mozilla (in green and yellow) gets a lot of attention from the gentlemen. She's a bit older. Miss Cookie is still quite young (but bold and fearless), and has yet to charm the others. They like her, but they dote on Mozilla.

As evidenced in the photo above, all of the gang plays voyeur as Pumpkin works very hard to woo Mozilla. They all try, but it is to Pumpkin she is most receptive.

Google is doing well. Talking more these days. He likes to say "Hello" and "I love you". And we have whistlefests nearly every day. He is quite the character. I have a large coffee mug filled with brightly colored markers. He works very hard to remove them, one by one, from their place in the mug and drop them all over my desk and onto the floor. Such dedication.

Joe continues to feed the wild cats from the neighborhood. They can often be found sunning themselves on the cushions of a couple old patio chairs we left out over the winter. When the sun is high in the sky, they like to nap and preen themselves in comfort. Sometimes there will be three or more and they will bicker for a spot on the chairs.

I've discovered the art of crocheting. I made lots of scarves as Christmas gifts, but recently discovered a very cool yarn specialty shop in Brookfield www.riverboutiqueyarn.com, which is seeing a lot from my wallet these days. Every time I go there I become more inspired. I'm trying to make some new things. My next project will be to try and felt something from what I've crocheted. We'll see how that goes. I hope to post some images of some of my creations sometime soon.

Hope all you readers are doing well. I promise not to wait so long inbetween posts. There are stories to tell after all.

Google Shower

I'd read in some of the bird publications that the larger parrots might actually bathe in a shower. I didn't really think I'd have a bird that would do the same. But Google, it seems, likes himself a nice lukewarm shower. Just a simple spray, whilst sitting on my shoulder, dipping his head and body in to catch the drops.

On workdays, I usually let the birds out to play first-thing so they have time to stretch their wings and have some fun before being inside all day while I'm away at the shop. The 'keets are fine on their own, for the most part. They like birdland and are pretty content to have free reign while I shower. Google, on the other hand, cannot be left on his own. Mainly because wherever we are is where he wants to be. And he is not afraid to fly down to the floor and walk the house looking for us. So, when I shower in the morning, I often bring Google and his playgym into the bathroom with me. He plays contentedly on the playgym, has a morning snack, while I shower and sing to him just footsteps away. He can't see me behind the shower curtain, but he knows I'm there.

One morning, after I'd showered and was toweling off he fluttered into the tub, then walked around with his wings held up and wide. I finally figured out he wanted to bathe, too. I turned on the faucet, wet my hands and dribbled some water over him. Happy bird. Twice this happened. The next step seemed obvious to me.

So, one day when I didn't have to work and could take a little extra time, once I'd finished my shower, I reached out for Google. He obliged. He sat on my shoulder, dipped his head in and out of the gentle spray, fluttered his wings, chirped once or twice, and soon we were done. When I told Joe about this he thought I was nuts. Perhaps you do, too.

Since then Google showers with me maybe twice a week. In fact, one night I was showering after working in the yard all afternoon and could hear Google whistling while hanging out on Joe's shoulder. I whistled back. Google got louder. Soon enough Joe walked into the bathroom and stated that Google wanted to take a shower, too. I put my hand out the curtain and Google hopped on. Happy bird.

The other day Joe was in the shower and I cracked the door open and yelled in that Google wanted to shower with him. "No he does not!" was the panicked reply.

One day...

A fine feathered search engine

I have been warning my husband for the past few months, dropping hints, fantasizing out loud, really, about adding another feathered friend to our family. We have four adorable parakeets, thus far, and I've been thinking six would be a better number. And I have promised that will be the maximum. As long as none of them decides to procreate. So far, no problem.

When it looks as though he's dying to tell me "No way, no more", I suggest we get a dog instead. That goes nowhere. When I really want to get my way I suggest we have a baby. Suddenly, he's quite open to adding another feathered angel to our nest.

And so, as it happens, although we've been discussing adding another parakeet, my latest trip to the pet shop to pick up gourmet parakeet food instead introduced me to a 9-week old, hand-fed and raised cockatiel. Kay told me not to be shy. He's very friendly. She opened up his cage and he popped out, and easily stepped onto my hand where he stayed for the next ten minutes or more. During which time, of course, I fell in love again.

I always have a gut instinct, a "knowing" when the next one appears. I haven't been wrong yet. They all get along so well. With all their personalities and quirks, they are still one big happy winged family.

I went home from the store knowing I wouldn't be able to wait to bring it up to Joe. I started with the dog suggestion, and then worked my way back around to another bird. Then I told him how I'd found the next one. Only it's not a parakeet, it's...bigger. But just as sweet. And already so tame. You know something, he's an incredible man. A very sweet husband. He asked when we would pick him up.

So I spent last night getting the carrier cage, and the baby's new home ready. I worked today, so we made plans for Joe to pick him up this afternoon. He was here when I got home from work. And already settling in.

We spent a few minutes with him, I greeted my original Four Amigos, and then we introduced them to Google bird. Yes, Google is his name. And I might as well tell you right now, the next, and final addition (but not for some time) will be named Blogger. So go ahead, call us techies, we don't care. I'm fond of blogging, and Google is a damned fine name, if you ask me. I hope they don't sue me for copyright infringement.

Google is fitting in just fine already. He's happy to pose for pictures. He likes nibbling on my hair, and eating carrots, and playing with his toys. The Four Amigos are a little tentative yet, but they'll soon realize that he's not to be afraid of, and just one of the gang. They've been spying on him when he's in his house. And I think signs point to them being good friends. As long as they are certain that they all have their designated spots in my heart.

And believe me, they do. I've blogged about it in months past. You can Google it, if you want.

The Great Pumpkin

It was two years ago, this week, that we brought Pumpkin home to join the family. He and Tori were instant friends, and have been constant companions ever since. Watching them hang out together, playing, chatting, sitting so close you can barely discern a line of space between them. It's an incredible thing. Sure, they've had "jealous sibling" issues, like brothers vying for attention, or first dibs at toys or treats. But, all in all, they are the best of friends. Brothers in wings.

When we were looking to find a friend and companion for Tori, I visited Kay and Ralph at the pet shop many times before making a decision. It had to be the right match. The first time I saw Pumpkin he was wrestling with his brother bird in a cage in the store. They wrestled so boisterously that they both fell off the perch and were rolling around at the bottom of the cage. Not fighting, but wrestling. No harm done. I was amazed. When Kay told me that Pumpkin's brother had been sold and that someone would be taking him home in the next few days, I knew that I couldn't let Pumpkin go lonely. He would be missing his companion. His buddy. His brother. So, the decision was made, and we made plans to bring him home.

When we got him home I spent a bit of time with him, hoping to keep him calm, and not stress him too much. Then we introduced him to Tori. Within minutes they were both sitting on my hand together. Like they'd been friends forever. And, now, it seems, they have been.

Pumpkin has always been a true "boy" in all things. Always on the move - places to go, toys to play with. Flying to do. Except, not too long after he joined the family, he was a bit over zealous and somehow wounded one of his blood feathers. I panicked, and ended up taking him to an emergency vet clinic about 20 miles out of town. I hadn't been through it before, and I wasn't taking any chances. For those who haven't had birds, it's important to note, they are small creatures, so even a little blood loss can be harmful. It's very important to make sure that any injured feathers are treated, or removed as the case may be. That any bleeding is quickly stopped, and any chance of infection staved off. Fortunately, everything worked out fine and Pumpkin was okay. But he had more than a few blood feather incidents in that first 6 months or so. It just seemed like he would start to heal and he would get just rowdy enough to injure himself again. I had many an urgent conversation with Kay during this time period. She would look him over, make sure all was well, and then proclaim him "all boy".

Pumpkin is doing very well these days. It took some time for him to really come around and want to hang out with me. But he and I are good friends now. Though, Tori wins the number one spot.

Is it age, or the parakeets?

I've always liked animals. We had cats and dogs, the occasional mouse, gerbil or hamster growing up. I even had a wonderful parakeet named Hutch for many of my teenage years. I was never much of a dog person. Not that I would be mean to one. In fact, I get very upset if I see one mistreated. They're just not my thing.

When my husband Joe and I first moved in together, I expressed an interest in getting a bird. I wasn't certain, however, if it was the right time. We both worked long hours, and I worried about it being alone all day. Plus we were adapting to living together, and that in itself was an adventure for two people used to being on their own.

Finally, a few years later, after we were married, I decided it was time. I gave Joe the option - baby or bird. Well, I was joking, really. Both in our 40's by the time we married, kids weren't in the plan. I've never really had that deeply felt longing. An occasional yearning, sure. But it just never felt right. So, we brought Tori home, and thus began our parakeet adventures. And my mellowing...

Like many parents, I have, on occasion, projected my emotions/perceptions onto the birds. I've decided that they are sad, or hurt, or lonely. Sometimes I think my perceptions are right, after all, I know them well. But I can go a bit overboard.

But aside from that, I started to look adoringly at dogs out for walks with their owners. At stray cats and kittens in the neighborhood. I convinced Joe to put up a tarp over our yard swing, and put in crates with warm fleece blankets to keep the kitties warm over the winter. I put out food for them. Took pictures of them playing in the snow. I started looking into rescuing them. So far that hasn't worked out.

I now talk to the wild birds in the yard. I talk to Mr. Squirrel (of Hallmark fame). I had a rather one-sided conversation with a baby mourning dove the other day. He/she was resting comfortably under one of our lawn chairs.

We've put out feeders for the wild birds. I've even taken to talking to spiders and ants, and other critters, putting them outside of the house instead of squashing them. It just feels better not to destroy them. After all, what's the point. I haven't, however, crossed this spiritual threshold with centipedes. I hate them. I just do. Fortunately, I don't see them too often.

Early this spring I was doing some cleaning. And discovered an ant on the counter. I decided to take it outside, not kill it. I got it to crawl onto a piece of paper to take it out. But, when I turned to go outside, I knocked over a diet coke and it spilled all over the kitchen floor. I took the ant outside and released it. Returned to the kitchen to clean up the spill, and slipped on some ice cubes and did the splits falling to the floor. I haven't done the splits since high school gymnastics, and even then, not really. But this was authentic. And I felt it. The muscles in my legs pulled in ways I didn't know were possible. I sat for a moment on the wet floor, and then slowly got up. I was sore for a day or two. Good karma and clean kitchen floors. I guess it was worth it.

So, the question is...is all this goodwill due to the mellowing that comes with age (not necessarily with hot flashes), or is it a byproduct of having these wonderful birds as companions? (I'm sure my sweet husband has something to do with it as well).

I still swat at mosquitoes. After all, they want my blood. But I also had a brief conversation with a firefly the other night. Well, I did the talking...