separated at birth part 5

OK OK this is the last one (at least for now...) I think "Button" looks like Jessica Simpson. Both are pretty, voluptuous and they play the dumb blond act but are really both clever in getting what they want.
(You have to admit they are both dolls! :-) )

separated at birth part 4

OK OK I think this one is the funniest.
You are all probably think I am completely lame and sad at this point but I'm just having a little fun.
I think Twillinger looks like the chubby bratty girl, Juanita Solis, on the show "Desperate housewives".

separated at birth part 3

This one is the funniest. I thought "Whook" looked more like a reverent Ben Franklin but my husband said, "no way! He's a handsome bird. He looks like tough hunk guy Vin Diesel!"

separated at birth part 2

I can't help myself but I see "Fresh Baby" looking and acting like Paris Hilton. Both are pretty, spoiled and snotty.
Notice that Paris is wearing a yellow dress?

separated at birth part 1

I thought I would have fun with this one. Sometimes I look at my birds and see certain 'people". Don't you think Eddie Scizzor poop looks like Drew Barrymore?
They are both little cutie pies :-)




Although....
When Eddie Scizzor Poop fluffs up her face she looks more like John Quincy Adams...

bucket list

I would recommend renting the movies "the Bucket List" and "Up". Both of these movies are "family friendly". They inspire you to think about all the things you want and should do before you "kick the bucket".
The top of my bucket list was to dive with whale sharks.
On July 25th 2008, I fulfilled that dream.
I went with "Blue Water" film maker, Jonathan Bird's dive group, to Holbox, Mexico to see these magnificent giants during their migration season.
It was bit of an arduous journey. Well, at least for me. I'm a big baby and I do not do well traveling. Boston to Atlanta then to Cancun. We stayed over night in Cancun then took a 3 hour bus ride up north where we then took a ferry ride to the island of Holbox.
The one thing that stuck me odd about Mexico was the dogs.
The dogs roamed freely with no leashes. They had sores all over them, they were dirty and none of them were neutered. I saw countless dogs dead on the side of the road. It was pretty unsettling to see that especially coming from a country that pampers dogs.
The other thing that was odd was that no one knew what ginger ale was. gaseosa de ginger ale, por favor?
I totally butchered the Spanish language while I was there. When I tried to impress my husband by testing out my language skills one day we had breakfast at the hotel. Deme una huevos.
The waiter handed me an egg (!?) When my husband just pointed at the photo of breakfast food the waiter made him an omelet. (!)
I was sick most of the week with the worst migraine that just would not leave. I was popping zomigs left and right plus dramamine so I wouldn't get seasick out in the rough seas. Although, I ended up puking all over the boat one day despite all of my preventive efforts. It was the 'perfect storm" of setting myself to being sick: a nasty migraine, rough seas, no food in my stomach and the stench of engine gasoline.
At last, we did see the whale sharks.
They were gigantic.
Despite of everything it was worth it.
A few giant manta rays hung around the whale sharks as well.
You get so excited seeing these creatures that you blindly jump in the water with them and swim like your ass is on fire to catch up to them that it doesn't occur to you that, "oh my God! These are really huge sharks and those are really big manta rays swimming really close to me!"
I got in the water four of the assigned five days with the whale sharks. I was amazed that we had such good luck finding them. When we made an attempt on a earlier whale shark expedition in Utila, Honduras we never saw a single whale shark. That trip pretty much sucked and it was outrageously expensive.
Another trip that was on my bucket list was to go to San Francisco and see the "wild parrots of Telegraph Hill" (after seeing the movie "the Wild Parrots of Telegraph Hill"). After, climbing up Coit Tower and hiking around Greenwhich street we did see the wild parrot squawking loudly making their appearance. San Francisco is such an unusual city. It seems to be of a more European city than American in my opinion. I also met Mark Bittner the author of the "Wild Parrots of Telegraph Hill" while I was snooping around the cottage's back yards in pursuit of the parrots. And of course, I visited the church of my patron saint, Saint Frances.
What's next on the bucket list?
Hmmmm...
I would like to go to Belize , dive the blue hole and go on a jungle tour to see wild parrots.
I'd also like to see the Atlantis hotel in the Bahamas. Or perhaps a visit to the Vatican or Scottish highlands. There are so many places to visit and to explore.
What's on your bucket list? Hmmm?

pudgie budgie

Our pets reflect our lifestyle.
Obesity has been a growing problem in this country and so our pets have also suffered with this as well. I can see a pattern of this observing pet's owners and their lifestyle. If the owner exercises regularly and eats right then their pet usually follows suit. The clients who hire me to walk their dogs on a regular basis have this "be healthy and exercise" mentality.
I just saw this television program over the weekend called "Food Revolution". It was basically about this British chief coming over to this country to change how Americans eat. His first stop was to analyze the school lunches in West Virginia. I was appalled at the crappy processed fatty sugary crap that is fed to kids on a regular basis. It was more appalling how the food administrators in that school were resistant to healthy change (e.g. adding vegetables and fruit to the diet and substituting actual baked chicken instead of those gross processed chicken nuggets.) I've never ate in my grade school's cafeteria. I always brought my lunch so I don't know what the food was like but I do not ever remember other kids eating pizza or drinking soda. .
I'll admit, I like my dunkin donuts, so I am not total "Ms. nutrition". I know I could eat better but I'm never going to start eating yogurt or some kind of "hippy" bread with almond butter.
As far as my pets are concerned, I make sure I give them fresh dandelion greens, collard greens or carrots as a snack. Yes, they do eat seed (high in calories) but they also eat the nutritious high end rice pellets. They are free flight birds so I let them out of their cages on a regular basis to fly around for exercise.
"Betty" (a very large English "rescue' budgie) and "Pinkhead" (young male American budgie) took a liking to each other. As a result, big ol" Betty laid 12 eggs. (Budgies generally only lay 6 at a time). Only one of these eggs hatched. On October 25th 2006 "Twillinger" hatched.
Sadly both Betty and Pinkhead died shortly afterward due to tumors. Twillinger, however, lived on.
Twillinger became "Smitty"'s best pal. (Smitty was a little green budgie found on the beach) They would fly around terrorizing the general population with their hijinks. Twillinger was a pretty big budgie. I mostly attributed to her size to her being part English budgie. Two years later, she was having hard time flying so I took her to the vet.
The normal weight of budgies is 35 grams or less.
When the vet weighed Twillinger she gasped.
Twillinger weighed 72 grams.
She was considered grossly obese.
She was the first bird the vet had ever seen with a double chin.
I was so embarrassed
The vet wanted to put her on a diet. No more veggie bird muffins!
(Meanwhile, her cage-mate Smitty weighed a mere 32 grams.)
The strange part is I never saw Twillinger eat. The only thing I did ever seen her eat is the fresh greens hanging on a clip so I was puzzled to why she was so grossly obese. I would just give her the low fat rice pellets and greens in their cage. I know Smitty raids the other cages for food but I didn't see Twillinger do so.
So I would just observe her.
It turned out that Twillinger didn't eat.
Smitty would gorge himself and then feed her!
So I tried separating them. Smitty would stick his head through the cage bars and continue to feed her. I found this so strange on how he was so bent on feeding her.
I dunno, maybe he likes "his ladies" a little on the pudgie side.

The Wild Pigeons of Salisbury beach part 5

One thing about feeding the pigeons at the beach is that it is a time to stop and reflect on life.

I guess it is like saying a prayer but you are actually doing something (spreading the seeds around). The usual gang was present: Craow Dum, Galok, Brownie, Blum Craow Dum, Scout and Busta Move plus other assorted feathered friends. I had a hard time determining which one was actually Busta Move because quite a few pigeons were doing their mating dance and chasing down females. It was little chilly on the beach with a wind blowing from the north but it was fine for a morning run. The pigeons seem to look forward to their morning ritual.

I just got news this morning from a fellow cockatiel chat line buddy that one of the "regular chatters' on our chat post had suddenly passed away. The tiel chatterer that informed me of this news is a lady who I met out in Western Massachusetts at a bird show. We've become long distance buddies emailing and chatting to each other about our birds.

The tiel chatterer that had passed away was an older gentleman who, I had not personally met, but I enjoyed seeing pictures of his aviary and hearing about all the drama of his birds living in the aviary.

Regardless, I felt at a loss. I'm sure he was beloved by his family. He seemed to haved loved his hobby of raising birds. One minute you are here and the next minute you aren't. It just didn't seem fair.

I also got news about one of my dive buddies undergoing brain cancer treatment.

WTF

This same poor girl had just recently lost her dear beloved husband from a motorcycle accident.

This is one of those moments I am at a loss for words.

I just hope and pray she recovers.

So I sit and watch the pigeons go about their business.

Just a simple pleasure.

Appreciating one day at a time.

lampshade collars

Yesterday, I took "Ruby" and her compadres out for a walk. Thankfully, it was a beautiful day. The temps were in the 50s and the skies were clear. What happened over the weekend was that Ruby was enjoying a day at the dog park with my cousin until some bully dog decided to take a bite out of her. She had this nasty wound on her back. Needless to say, she was taken to the vet prescribed antibotics, given a rabies booster (just in case) and fitted with a "Elizabethan collar" (lampshade) so she wouldn't dig at the wound.
I know this sounds mean but dogs look really funny wearing this big plastic cup around their necks. I did feel sorry for her because I really think she felt embarrassed. I was temped to take it off of her when we went for our walk but I was afraid she would start scratching at the wound or decide to roll in something and get it infected. The good thing she only has to wear it temporarily until the area heals.
However...
It is really sad when you see parrots wearing this type of collar.
You do see them wearing them for the same reason Ruby had to wear one to allow an injury to heal. But most often parrots are assign to wear these Elizabethan collars because of feather picking and self mutilation issues.
As I had blogged on at a previous post about my lutino cockatiel "Button". She has feather tearing issues. She had been to a multitude of avian vets trying to figure out what the problem is but nothing has come up conclusively. A homeopathic vet fitted her with one of these collars so her feather pins could heal and grow.
It was the saddest sight in the world to see her. She put her head down and leaned forward. She lost interest in food and everything. After a few days, I couldn't stand it anymore. I had to remove the collar. I was afraid she was going to lose the will to live. She was clearly depressed!
I've talked to other people who had to collar their parrots. Most do not like it but seem to adjust to it after awhile. Sadly, if some of them have to wear it for feather picking problems the parrot generally resume to picking once it was removed.
I thought, maybe, if I put a 'flight suit"(bird diaper) on her which would cover the picking areas that this might help. She wanted no part of this.
She is generally a well adjusted happy bird. She gets loads of attention and gets the best of food.
She also likes to bathe. I am still in pursuit of curing her problem but no one seems to know why.
Poor little Button.

Cesar

You gotta love Cesar.
First of all, he is totally hot with those big white sparkly teeth, dark eyes and accent.
A few years ago, when I was starting my business, my cousin handed me her new "Dog Whisperer" DVD and said, "check out this dog training guy and tell me what you think".
There is definitely an art in how to getting a dog to behave in an acceptable manner to fit in with family life and with other people and dogs.
The first thing I noticed was how clueless and powerless the owners were in dealing with the obnoxious behavior(s) of their family dog. (Myself, included)
I got the biggest kick out of watching Cesar approaching the situation. The dogs are going nuts and the owners are in tears. Cesar comes walking in the room with that cool calm approach and that big white smile. Some of the women clients, you can tell, just melt when he walks in the room.
"Dog? What dog?"
Some of the clients are just pathetic whining about their baby (refering to their vicious dog that bites everyone). I am amazed that Cesar can stand there all calm without smacking some of these people right side their head.
Believe me, I've met some of these types.
I met this one woman who had this gigantic unruly rather vicious German shepherd. She absolutely refused to leash her dog, ever. To her, it was sooooo mean to leash a dog. So she would bring her dog on the beach (even though there is a leash law sign posted plus restrictions on when dogs are allowed on the beach) As you might guess, these laws do not pertain to her. So she lets her dog run wild on the beach. She feels that the waves will wash away any poop the dogs does as well. I tried to appeal to her in a safety rational saying, "aren't you afraid your dog will run out in the street?" her reply, "oh, he knows not to". Then I said, "what if he goes after a little kid playing on the beach" She said, "oh yeah, he does like to jump on people but it would the kids fault if he got bit".
What an idiot.
Cesar's motto is to "rehabilitate owners as well as dogs" (with behavior modification). This woman would be hopeless because she doesn't think she has a problem.
I've seen kids act up in the grocery store and I think to myself, "that little brat needs a dose of Cesar". The funny thing is I think the creators of "South Park" thought the same thing.
(Check out my link : Cartman" southpark. It is F*&^ing hilarious)
I like his attitude of being"calm and assertive". Not only is this a good approach in dealing with dogs but dealing with people as well. It's so easy to lose your cool and lose control. When I feel I am going to lose it, I take a deep breath and SMILE. It's amazing how that little thing can keep you grounded.
Yup, I'm a Cesar fan.
Matter of fact, I just subscribed to his company's magazine "Cesar's Way". I am looking forward to it.

ribald tails

I am in my car a lot traveling house to house to care for animals. I've stopped listening to music since my dear Aunt passed away a few years ago.
I just can't stand to listen to "music". I absolutely can not stand to listen to Whitney Houston or Mariah Carey. It is pure agony. It is painful to go shopping and forced to listen to the crap they pump in for your "listening pleasure". How can the workers stand listening to this junk without going mad?
I end up listening to a lot of books-on-CD. "Marley-the world's worst dog" by John Grogen was the first one of these listening books I heard. After that, I've been a frequent library visitor taking out all kinds of books-on-CD.
My cousin introduced me to the Cesar Milan "Dog Whisperer" collection and now I am hooked. (More on Cesar at a later time!)
Another favorite was "Wesley the Owl". I just love these animal stories! I have listened to so many I can not keep count.
I also enjoyed all of Phillipa Gregory's historical novels centering on king Henry the VIII and his wives. Another 'guilty pleasure" is Sophia Kinsella's "confession of a shopaholic" series. They are really quite funny.
One of my clients recommended the novel "Outlander" by Diana Galandon. It is a historic fantasy novel centered on 18th century Scotland. It is pretty good, except..
It's a little too "spicy" for my taste.
Oh my God
It was pretty embarrassing pulling up to the dunkin donut drive-through and listening to "milky white breasts" and "quivering thighs". I've had to roll up my windows when I am stopped at a red light as well. I guess I am not used to these kind of , what you would call, "corset rippers".
I'll have to admit I am an "Disney channel" type. I'd like the novel better if it didn't have all the naughty bits.
I just finished "American on Purpose" by Craig Ferguson, speaking of ribald Scotsmen. I actually enjoyed his offbeat sense of self depreciating sense of humor and his out look on life.
The next book on my listening agenda is "Love is the Best Medicine" by Dr. Nick Trout. Dr. Trout is a veterinarian at Angel memorial. I've read his book "Tell me Where it Hurts".
No more ribald tales!

iguana be loved by you

One of my favorite books I've ever read was "Jurassic Park". I thought it was brilliant and well researched. I was always one of those dorky little kids that knew everything there was to know about dinosaurs but had no idea what a decimal was in math class.
Anyways, I always had a fascination with anything dinosaur-like. I got my first iguana as a 'surprise" gift. I never asked for an iguana nor even suggested that I wanted one. Regardless, I received this Chinese food container holding this tiny iguana as a" gift".
In a panic, I ran to the pet store to buy a book on how to care properly for iguanas. Sadly, three months later, little "Soto" escaped from his cage when I let him outdoors for some needed sunshine. I never saw him again.
Word got out in the neighborhood about the "lost iguana" and then people started calling me to see if I wanted their iguana since their kids lost interest in them. I ended up with two "new" iguanas: "Fruitcake" and "Stimpy".
I became somewhat of a celebrity in the town of Maynard as the "lady with the iguanas". Their picture appeared in the Boston Globe in a segment about "pets". I would take them out on leashes for a walk. Although they were not very good about walking they would try to bolt for the nearest tree. It was still rather amusing to see two iguanas on leashes walking down the sidewalk.
They got really big. I mean really big. I would say a good 5 to 6 feet long including their tail. They were pretty gentle although not too crazy about men. They would present themselves standing tall with their dewlap fully inflated (flap of skin hanging under their chin) and bob their head around in defiance. I thought it was hilarious when they did this but many of my guests didn't think this was funny.
Matter of fact, they were scared shitless.
When I was "dating" I thought having iguanas would be something that would attract men. In fact, I think it did the opposite.
My "dates' thought it was creepy having these "dinosaurs" walk freely around the house and were repulsed by seeing them swim (and poop) in the bathtub.
I think the iguanas sensed something "amiss" with the few "dates" I had. I swear, they did this on purpose.They would climb up on their post and fart loudly.
I'm serious.
It was so embarrassing.
They would purposely climb up on their perch lift their tail and let go a bellow of gas.
My (now) husband was unfazed by any of their shenanigans. He would bring bags of veggies over for the iguanas instead of flowers and candy for me. Although, he was not keen on picking them up or using the bathroom when they were taking a swim, he didn't seem to mind them.
Nor did he mind when they had an outbreak of worms (NOW THAT WAS GROSS!)
I had them for over 15 years. I started to really have problems with my neck and head. It was getting impossible for me to pick them up to clean them. They were well over 6 feet long and weighed at least 20lbs and it is not like they stayed still when you picked them up either. I needed long fireplace gloves to pick them up since their scales were like razors.
When I felt I couldn't properly care for them because of my health issues I felt it was best to find them a proper home. I found a nice lady who lived in Iowa who had a house full of iguanas. I felt this was a good match. Six months later she contacted me and sent me pictures of the iguanas enjoying their surroundings. "Stimpy" died a year later.He was about 18 years old.
They were an interesting pet to have but a lot of work. They should not be purchased on "a whim" as many teenage boys would do. If you ever decide on such a pet take the time to read about them first and if you decide this is the pet for you check out adoption agencies first. There are many iguanas that are up for adoption.
Iguana be loved by you!

Easter bunny

Well, it is that time of year. It is almost Easter. Right now I have a "bunny" boarder staying with me.
I filled the empty pond basin with hay and arranged a stand so the bunny could get water with his drinking bottle. He cuddles up to a large winnie the pooh stuffed doll. He eats rabbit pellets and an assortment of fresh greens, shredded carrots, craisens and peanuts.
He's quite old for a rabbit being about twelve years old. Like the rest of us as we age, he has cataracts. I take him out to stretch his little legs out on the basement "pet friendly" rug and brush him. He sits up and rubs his little paws over his face grooming himself. He is a cute little thing.
My cousin use to have rabbits as pets when we were young so I am used to holding them. They are soft and cuddly but you have to be careful holding them because their hind paws have sharp claws.
Growing up Catholic, we celebrated Easter by not only dressing up in pastel colors and going to church for Easter mass but we also got a visit from the "Easter bunny". Similar to the elusive tooth fairy and Santa Claus, the Easter bunny appeared only at night when we were asleep and left a basket full of treats at the end of our bed.
What was different about our visit from the Easter bunny that our Easter bunny left a trail of edible droppings next to the basket. There would be this trail of raisenettes and mini milkballs on the floor out the door.
Of course, we thought this was great.
Edible poop!
This had to be the handiwork of my father.
There is no way my mother had any part in this scheme because even today she denies that any such thing of this nature ever happened.
Ha!
When I had my two iguanas I didn't realize they were both female until one Easter morning. I heard this odd noise of something that sounded like ping pong balls hitting the wall. I walked into the iguana room and saw at least 40 rubbery eggs all over the place.
I screamed.
"Stimpy' was really huge prior to this event and very grouchy. She weighed close to 20lbs. I think she tried to lay the eggs in her water bowl but they came out everywhere. Iguanas are not like birds that get protective over the eggs after they lay them nor do they sit on the eggs.
I've seen iguana eggs in reservoirs in Bonaire. The island of Bonaire is noted for their wild iguana population. For next four years, both iguanas "Stimpy" and Fruitcake" laid huge clutches of eggs every Easter season. My poor husband was totally grossed out by this event.
And now, my birds are doing the same thing.
Happy Easter!

fun fundraisers

For the last three weeks, I've lived like a vampire. I avoided people, I stayed in cool dark rooms whenever I could and ate the only thing that didn't make me nauseous (for me, my "life-blood" is a dunkin donut or a poptart)
Finally, after three long weeks of having this gnawing on and off again chronic migraine, it finally lifted. I felt as if my brain had been flossed by barb wire and my neck was cramped in a vice grip.
Crikey...
Yesterday, I attended a fund raising event for the Joppa Flats Massachusetts Audubon society.
I thought this idea they sponsored was brilliant. At this event you "purchase" a tile for $25.00, paint a bird or something to do with nature on it, the art studio glazes and fires it, and they use the tiles on their education classroom wall.
I decided to paint a pigeon on "my' tile" since they are rather overlooked birds. I sat with a couple of ladies who were volunteers for Joppa flats as we worked on our tiles. We chatted a bit . I told them I thought this was a brillant idea for a fund raiser because not only did I think this was 'fun' but it made me renew my annual membership as well. I was a bit surprised that the art studio was not packed with people painting away. One of the ladies said you would be surprised at how many people are "art phobic" fearing to relive any past 'scary experiences' of grade school art class. She said that many people were reluctant to have any thing to do it.
Huh?
How weird is that?
I had a hard time understanding that concept.
Scared of art?
I suppose it would be like having to solve a math problem in your head in front of the classroom and then completely going blank F*&^ing it up and then of course, the fear of your classmates all chanting, "retard retard".
I dunno, I don't remember any kid being picked on because they weren't artists.
I enjoyed doing it and I think it will be cool seeing my "pigeon tile" on their classroom wall.
Later that day, I went to my sister-in-laws hockey tournament.
It was also a fund raising event for "shoot for the cure" (breast cancer research). The admission to the event was mere $5.00. You could buy all kinds of raffles tickets as well. I have to say, it was awesome. The ladies playing hockey were amazing. Kathy really impressed me. I had a sore throat by the end of the night yelling.
All their kids, friends and family members were there all showing support and having a blast. My nephews were the ring leaders in blasting the loud air horns. As you might guess, they had a great time too.
I was really glad I was (finally) feeling pretty good so that I could attend, participate and enjoy these worthwhile events!
It was a good day!

extraordinary women

I just saw an advertisement for some silly show on TV called "jersey"...something or other. The show stars these women with perfect tans, shiny hair and surgically enhanced bodies. They act so stupid, shallow and petty that it is embarrassing. I can't for the life of me understand why shows like this are on TV. And of course, the follow up advertisement was for "Entertainment Tonight" previewing, yet another segment, of that creepy Tiger Woods and his unending string of douche bags vying for their 15 minutes of shame on some salacious talk show and seeking modeling gigs with skanky magazines.
When I see all of this, I feel dirty and embarrassed.
Ugh...
Tommorrow night, I am going to watch my sister-in-law play hockey for her championship finals. Yes, you read that right. I am going to watch my sister-in-law hip check opponents into the boards and slap shot a puck between a goalies skates into a net.
Seriously, how cool is that?
Here is this petite 40 something mother of two playing competitive hockey for the shear joy of it!
I liked "Kathy" the first day I met her. She wasn't some snotty diva princess nor an insecure passive-aggressive type. She's totally normal and "regular". She's the kind of kid you could imbibe in a few "adult beverages" with and you can joke around with too.
My sister swims competively year round in Hobson's Bay (New Zealand's ocean bay area) every Wednesday night. I've watched her swim and she is right smack in the middle with all the other swimmers in choppy waters. We are talking about some of these swimmers are in training for the Olympics and here she is a 50 year old mother of two keeping up with them on three mile swims!
Holy crap! I can barely run that never mind swim that!
My mother is nearly 70 years old. She does her own yard work. She has a pretty big yard. She mows the grass, rakes the leaves and maintains the grass and flowers. It is nonstop physical work .The flowers are the thing that amazes me. When one set of flowers is finished, a new set pops up. It is this never ending symphony of flowers that bloom straight from the spring til fall. It is something you see out of "Homes and Gardens".It is really quite amazing.
My cousin can speak a gazillion languages. Last year she learned to speak Portuguese. She is also my "how to" person when it comes to dealing with dogs. She has had dogs for decades so she know a thing or two about them. She is one sharp cookie.
Pretty soon, I'll be scuba diving with the crew of "Easy Diver". The ladies on that boat are amazing. They drive the boat, pull the anchor, lug heavy gear, lift tanks, assist customers and oh yeah, they dive too.
The"regular" female customers that come aboard to dive are pretty impressive as well.
And diving in New England waters isn't easy either.
I am blessed to be surrounded by so many "pissah awesome" ladies.
There are so many cool ladies that I personally know that I can not possibly list them along with their unique skills and accomplishments.
I hope and pray each day that I can, if not keep up with them that I, at least, can trail in their wake.
Rock on!

Charities and special interest groups

When I started my business I started to get barraged from every special interest group and charity looking for donations. The funny thing is I that actually make less than minimum wage but because you are labeled as a "business owner" for some reason people think you are rich.
Regardless, I get calls from every local organization with some cause. In the beginning I gave to all of them so I wouldn't feel "cheap" but then it started getting stupid.
I'm sorry, but I really don't give a flying shit about school sports.
I just don't.
Matter of fact, I can't stand football players and cheerleaders.
I had to put my foot down and figure out what groups were important to me. Organizations to who you donate to sort of form of who you are as a business person.There are lots of causes that are out there that are wonderful and worthwhile but I go for animal welfare organizations.
The organization(s) I found that meant the most to me are:
Angel Memorial animal hospital (ASPCA) & the Meuthen's local shelter branch
Oasis Foundation (bird rescue and sanctuary)
Gabriel Foundation (bird rescue and sanctuary)
Audubon Society
Yes, animal shelters are something I care about. There are other smaller shelters I have donated to as well. I also attend the "fur ball" auction sponsored by the local Merrimack Feline rescue. They are big on spaying cats. Volunteers catch feral cats, spay and neuter them. Cat populations have gotten out of control. Overpopulation of cats has severely effected the song bird population. I, myself, have rescued birds that had been attacked by outdoor cats so this group is good for controlling the overpopulation of feral cats.
I also attend the annual "parrot Festival" in Texas. It is massive fundraiser for the National Parrot Research and rescue. It is quite an event.
It is interesting where life leads you. Don't you think?

* photo: Long Island parrot society's annual bird show 2005

the wild pigeons of Salisbury beach part 4

I finally was able to get down to the beach to go for a badly needed run. The weather has been unbelievable bad between the super high tides, rain and winds from the NE.
Plum Island is falling into the ocean. There has been a mandatory evacuation for people residing in beach front homes that are now sliding into the ocean. Due to the erosion of the past couple of weeks of terrible weather there is now a cliff no entering Salisbury beach.
Since I had not been to the beach in a few days I was worried about the pigeon population. As soon as my car pulled up to it's usual spot I could see the pigeons gathering. It looks like everyone survived the storm. Galok joined the group which he was missing for awhile. They must have been really hungry because after I dumped their food out they still followed me down the beach.
The cold air felt really good on my head. I really needed to breath some fresh cool air. The sparrows line themselves on the broken picket fence to announce my arrival to the pigeons. Craow Dum seems to be the ambassador for the other pigeons. "The Scout' is the first pigeon to come to greet us. He is the messenger to let all the pigeons know it is safe to land.
I go through a lot of bird food. Not only do I buy food for the pigeons but for the backyard goldfinches and of course, my crew in the house. I just placed an order for food for my tiels & budgies online. I spent about $100.00 for just those birds. That food will last about a month.. I go through two 20lb bags of food for the pigeons each month and a 50lb bag of black oil sunflower seeds plus thistle for the outdoor birds.
Oh I'm not complaining or anything. I guess I never really sat down to think about how much food I buy my birds.
Boy, are they spoiled!
It is certainly worth it. I enjoy their company.
Oh, this reminds me. I will be having a birdy boarder for about two weeks starting Wednesday. I need to make some Harrison's bird muffins and stock up dandelion greens.
Yes, I spoil my 'guests" too!

Who's training who?

Well it is still pouring out. I know I have to get "Mattie" my little jack russell customer out for her daily walk. Since it is a crappy day I already know she will hide under the couch because she doesn't want to go out. I try to bribe her with a trail of "treats' to get her from under the couch.

So who is training who?

I've known people (mostly men) who 'train' their dog through force and through fear & punishment techniques. I suppose it works because they get the desired results. I can only guess that this is how their personal relationships are formulated as well by fear and punishment.

These kind of guys are serious insecure dicks.

In the long run they are hated and anyone involved with them (including their pets) thinks about excaping.

Case in point: you feed wild raccons everyday at the same spot. They come and go when they feel like it but they show up at the same time when you feed them everyday. They are not forced to come there but they want to come there. They are being rewarded.

Think of a stallion locked up in a tiny corral. The whole time the stallion wants out and thinks everyday about trying to break out because he is forced to stay there! That is punishment.

I've spent alot of time as an observer. I observe animals and people. I get past my ego of "what things are suppose to be like" and just watch how things actually work. To get the desired result of a particular behavior you have to establish a win-win situation that everyone is happy with.

Case in point: To get that little jack russell outside to poop I need to coax her something rewarding.

Animals as well as people respond to peer pressure. When one does something that looks fun or interesting the next person (or animal) will want to try it. Irene Pepperberg of the "Alex studies" calls this approach the model-rival approach. Think of the Tom Sawyer story about painting the fence. My vet wanted me to switch my bird "Button's"diet from seeds (too fatty) to a pelleted diet (more nutritious). When I put the cup of pellets in her cage she would'nt eat it. She would rather starve to death before she ate it.

However, when I put the pellets in the parakeet cage all of a sudden the pellets looked interesting. She went in the parakeet's cage and ate the pellets. The parakeets got interested as well and also started to eat it.

None of the birds would eat fresh veggies when I put a bowl of veggies in their cages. However, when I sat down for dinner with all kinds of greens in my plate all of a suddet this was the most delicious thing they all ever seen. I would have at least six birds in my plate after my food.

Did I want all these birds sharing my food? Not really.

Did I want the birds to eat fresh veggies? Yup

So the end result was the desired result.

Kids aren't any different. Think about grabbing a snack with your nephews. They get , say, pizza, and you get a spinache bun. You make all these mmmmm sounds like you are in yummy treat heaven. All of a sudden they are interested in trying that "what-they-thought-was gross" spinache bun.

Another trick trainers do is to reinforce positive behaviors the animals already do. Button would sit on her play stand. When I put jingle balls on the play stand she would pick them up and throw them. I lined up a basketball hoop near where she threw them. When the ball would land in the hoop I would praise her and give her a treat. She thought this was great!

My birds also liked routine. They liked knowing at such and such time it was time for their cage to be cleaned, it was time for them to come out and fly around and what time was bedtime.

They could time at what time my husband would be spending time with them.

When they heard the upstairs toilet flush they would all squawk because this meant their "daddy' was done upstairs and would coming downstairs to spend time with them.

Who would've thought the sound of a flushing toilet would mean something fun was going to happen?

cloudy with the chance of...........

I can't seem to shake this migraine off. It has lasted for two weeks now. It leaves and then comes back again leaving my head bruised so it doesn't put me in the greatest of moods.
I generally love my job, especially when the weather is sunny and cool. Right now, we are getting hit with a nor'easter. It is pouring freezing horizontal rain. If this were snow, it would be a nightmare.
Luckily, I am not scheduled to walk any dogs today. I am equipped with fisherman's rain gear and a pair of wellies for weather such as this. Most of the clever dogs know enough they do not want to go out in weather like this and I have quite a time coaxing them to go outside to at least relieve themselves. One little dog in particular hates cold, snowy and rainy weather. She will hide under the couch. I have to make a path of "treats" to get her to come out from under hiding. Most of the time she'll will leave a "package" on the rug to let me know, "see! I've already went so I don't have to go outside!"
As far I as knew from a confirmed schedule I only had a cat customer today. When I pulled up to the house early this morning driving through the torrential rain I saw a car parked in their driveway. I then checked my cellphone for messages to see if they had canceled this visit.
From past experience, even though there wasn't any messages on either home phone or cellphone in regards to cancellation I figured I better call the customers home phone before entering the home.
I have had situations like this more than once that the husband and wife assumed the other one called to schedule or cancel an appointment but neither did, thus I've awoken half ballicky men sprawled on the couch to both of our surprise. Believe it or not, this is not a good scene.
Sure enough, when I called, the wife answered the phone. She said she had left me an email that night cancelling the morning appointment.
?!?!?
I know people are busy with their lives et cetera, but I don't make a habit of checking my emails at midnight. I generally expect people to give me at least 24 hours notice into contact me for either a scheduling or cancellation of an appointment. I know there are also emergencies that can't be avoided. Life can throw you a curve ball when you least expect it. I do my best to accommodate people.
Regardless,, I was still a bit annoyed.
A week or two ago, I received an invite to a cousin's baby shower. I see this cousin maybe once every five years. He is a nice enough kid I just don't see him often nor hang out with him but I like him well enough. I put the invite on the counter deciding weather or not I could attend this event.
During this time, between MA and NH school vacations back to back meaning I was inundated with vacationing customers. On top of it, I was still reeling from taking a customer to small claims court for nonpayment of services. It was a complete pain in the arse. We also got hit with a hurricane storm that left many people without power. My mom was away on a much needed vacation so I needed to check on my father daily to make sure he was OK. Plus, I felt crappy and tired. Not that all of this is an excuse but the bottom line is that I did forget to respond to the shower RSVP.
When my mother got back from vacation she called me asking me why I didn't respond to the shower invite. I am usually very good about things like this but I simply forgot. My mother was at bit upset with me as a result. I had no excuse for this. I then called my cousin, apologized for my forgetfulness and promptly sent a gift.
I'm not really sure why I am writing all of this other than I guess I am just having a bitchy kind of a day.
I guess I am hoping people will treat me the same courtesy.

Button

"Button" was my first cockatiel. She hatched on May 16 2002. I brought her home when she about 8 weeks old. She was a very large lutino (yellow) female. She was actually larger than her siblings thinking that she might be older than them, but she wasn't. She was just a big baby.
In retrospect, I should have waited a week or two later to pick her up at the shop. When I got her home, assuming she was fully weaned, she made these noises like a raptor. I had no idea why she was making these noises. When I called the shop they said, 'She'll get over it". She had no problem eating on her own but she was being forced weaned.
"Dexter", my little white budgie, must of known "Button" was still just a baby. When I introduced Button to Whook and Dexter, Dexter perched next to Button and started grooming her. It was the cutest thing I ever saw.
Button was abnormally large. She was almost the size of a small chicken. When I looked at other (lutino) cockatiels featured in a bird show I was amazed at how much bigger Button was in comparison. I do not know if this was indicative of problems Button would later have when she reached 6 months old or if taking her home at 8 weeks could have lead to her problems later.
Who knows.
I can only speculate.
November of 2002, we went on vacation and boarded Button at a bird boarder. I missed her terribly. Shortly after we came back, Button started picking and tearing at her feathers.
I immediately took her to the vet for a check up.
The tests came back inconclusive but she was treated for giardiasis. Lutino cockatiels are prone to giardiasis. Giardia lamblia is a protozoan parasite that causes the bird to itch and pick. The tests, however, are inconclusive because the giardia cysts are shed periodically so it is hard to catch the cysts on the gram stains on the first test. Regardless, she was treated with metriozidole for 14 days. Unfortunately, she still picked.
So I took her Angel memorial animal hospital for a second opinion. The vet there thought it could be hormones so she was put on luprin to stop egg production. She still picked.
I took her at least six other different vets for their thoughts, including a homeopathic vet. She still picked.
I even took her to a pet psychic for answers!
Button's liver was starting to be compromised due to either all the meds or just because she was a lutino. Lutinos tend to get sick more easily than normal greys. Button was prone to yeast infections on a regular basis.
All of this was extremely stressful to me and Button. I tried to make sure she was on a healthy balanced diet, that she had soothing baths and some sunlight (at least in the summer)
She is bald under her wings and "bikini" area. She tends to get feather cysts too.
This poor little bird despite all of this is sweet loving bird. Besides, Whook, she is the only one that responds to her name when you call her. She loves to play basketball with little plastic jingle balls. I haven't given up on trying to find a "cure" for her feather issues despite the 2 inch thick packet of past medical records I've accumulated through out the years for her.
I've attended quite a few "parrot' conferences in New Hampshire, New York and Texas picking the brains of well known avain vets , behaviorists and nutritionists trying to find the magic bullet to hopefully 'cure' Button.
What I found out there is no magic bullet.
Feather picking is a very complex frustrating problem for both vets and bird owners.
Meanwhile in my ongoing search for answers, Button gets lots of attention with the best care I can provide for her.

scenes we would like to see

It is one of those days I have no energy. I feel like I'm wearing cements shoes and my head is swollen to the size of Texas.
Yup, a migraine is just waiting around the corner to grab me. Luckily, I have fairly "easy' day just having to walk my 'regular" dog walking customers and clean only seven bird cages.
I am planning on plunking my butt down at about 4:30pm to watch "Judge Judy" and to relax with my birds.
There are few commercials on TV that catch my eye, either I find them amusing or really irritating.
I find the McDonald's fillet-o-fish sandwich commercial with Freddy the singing fish pretty funny. Of course, I do not eat fish. I'm a vegetarian. I do, however, crack up with these two guys bopping to the "give me that fillet-o-fish..." song .They look like the kind of guys that would be featured on the show "My name is Earl".
The other commercial that totally cracks me up is the the "Foreyes" commercial. It is the one with the grandmother trying on her new glasses and her cranky ol' husband whines "can we go home now?". When she puts on her new glasses she sees a hunk instead and purrs ,"sure!"
The commercial that I simply hate is the nissan chow mein commercial with the little creepy Confucius guy talking about 'noodle enlightenment". I think this commercial is so offensive to asians by using this lame stereotypical character. Can you imagine if they pulled this crap by using a racially age old cartoon stereotype instead? Shit would surely hit the fan.
Another commercial that I found completely awful was a radio commercial I heard about ten years ago for Valentine's day.
It went like this, " get her what she really wants for valentine's day.... VIAGRA!"
I couldn't believe it.
Can you imagine all the self absorbed clueless old scroggies that actually think and believe that women want a naked old fart for valentines' day instead of flowers and candy?
Can you just picture it?
Give me a %&*ing break!!!
That commercial only ran for a week and I never heard it again. I bet alot of women called to complain as well as old guys protesting, "Hey! It wasn't what she wanted for valentine's day. She wanted candy!" DUH
MAD magazine used have a comic strip in their magazine by comic favorite Don Martin that would take commercials and satire it in a strip called "scenes we'd like to see".
One commercial in particular I would like to make the necessary adjustments is the one for "Hair Cuttery". It shows this impeccibly groomed good looking guy skipping down the street that looks like the Back Bay with five dogs on leashes. It makes me laugh because it is so unrealistic. Especially the fact that all the dogs are well behaved and going in the same direction with the happy hunk AND he is not carrying any poop bags!
In reality, his sweater would have it's sleeves partial chewed and stretched out. Paw prints and dog hairs all over his sweater and pants. And definitely, at least one of his shoes would have poop squished and stuck on it. Of course, he would (or should) be carrying a couple of full swinging bags of shit. The dogs themselves would all be wanting to go in different directions. One would be stopping to poop, while one of them all of a sudden just has to lunge for that squirrel as well as another one pulling in a different direction dying to sniff that rotten banana on the street. And of course, what do you think what would happen when another dog walker comes in view with a yappy bichon in tow? There is no way you can walk five dogs at once. Walking three well behaved socialized small dogs is tough enough never mind FIVE!
Yup, that would be a scene I'd like to see!

Whook

Whook is our first bird. He is pale blue male budgie. I got him in 2001 at a bird shop in Amherst, NH.
My biker buddies, Mel & Millie, had a couple of birds which influenced me on my downhill spiral bird obsession.
Like with everything I do when I am interested in something I research it inexhaustibly. I read everything I could possibly get my hands on about budgies and their care. One book in particular I found helpful, "The Complete Idiot's guide to Bird care & training" by Jacqueline ONeil. I hate the title, but it is a very good starter book.
Whook was my only bird at the time so all my focus was on caring and training him. It took about a month for him to step up on my finger. The turning point for him to trust me was on one stormy day in the summer. It was thundering and lightening. I took him out and wrapped my hands around him holding him close. I kept saying, "Biscuit Whook" "naughty bird"' pretty bird". He must have realized he was safe with me because once I opened my hands he did not fly away in panic but stayed cuddled up to me.
He started to talk when after he spent a week at a friends house while we went on vacation. He didn't say things "Biscuit Whook" or "naughty bird" like I had taught him.The first thing that came out of his mouth was, "oh stop it!" and "shut up!"
After that he said everything and everything. He loved the 'jailhouse" song from the "O Brother" folk album. He could whistle the entire tune and sing with his own lyrics. "YOoour a Biscuit WhoOOok now". It was hilarious.
Whook has had a lot of adventures, alot of them, not so good. He seemed to like to fly into the iguanas cage, sit on top of them and "groom" them. The iguanas, at first, didn't seem to mind.
One day, "Stimpy" did mind.
I heard this ungodly scream. Whook was in Stimpy's mouth. Blood was everywhere. I was in a total panic and called the emergency 24 hour vet in Nashua, NH. Reptiles saliva is fairly toxic I really didn't think Whook was going to survive. It turned out that Stimpy crunched a blood feather. Once the blood feather was removed , and Whook was on antibotics, he was OK.
A second big adventure for Whook was April 3rd of 2002. My husband came home from work for lunch and Whook was flying around the house. When he opened the door Whook flew out. I looked on with horror as I saw Whook speed off in a frenzy through the neighbor's pine trees. Hawks were circling overhead and it had just snowed. I felt Whook was a goner.
The first thing I did was, of course, run after him but he flew out of sight. I called the Burlington animal control officer in the town we lived. Both my husband and I were grief stricken. We combed the neighborhood yelling "Whook! Biscuit Whook" and singing the Jailhouse song as loud as we could. Our neighbors must have thought we were nuts until we told them what happened and to keep a lookout for a blue parakeet. By day four after no sightings, we figured he was gone.
I couldn't stand not having a bird so we decided to get another bird. It wasn't as if we were replacing Whook it was just that we enjoyed having a bird so much in our lives. We took a ride all the way down to Easton, MA on the south shore to find a hand raised parakeet.
When we walked in the door with little "Dexter" the phone rang.
It was animal control.
He found Whook.
Whook flew about a mile and half down the street and landed on a guy's head while he was raking the leaves. Whook proclaimed , " you stink! And you're naughty!" The guy figured he must have been somebody's pet. We were overjoyed. I felt I had just won the lottery. I gave the gentleman who found Whook a family pack of movie tixs as a reward. He was just as happy that Whook found his way back home.
Whook, however, wasn't so happy seeing another bird in his cage.
Matter of fact, he was down right pissed.
I had immediately go out and buy another cage since Whook was used to his own cage.
Whook, later, fell in love with Dexter. When Dexter died two years later of a kidney tumor Whook fell into a depression. He started getting sick alot with bacterial infections. I changed his diet, used bottled water and added milk thistle to boost his liver function. He started getting better.
We still have Whook. He is still going strong.We sometimes call him the "Mayor' because he acts like the ambassador for all my birds. He speaks bilingual: birdy speak and English.
Still every once in awhile he will say something funny (or obscene) I swear to get a rise from us.
And he knows he is the king!

"Smitty"

I had volunteered for parrot911. This is a national database network retrieving and reuniting lost & found parrots with their owners. I helped reunite one cockatiel with his owner that was from Bedford NH. The bird was found in Billerica MA.
As I was scanning the Daily news I saw an ad in the lost & found section , "found: a green cockatiel found on Salisbury beach". A green cockatiel?!? I've never heard of such a thing. My curiosity got to me so I called the number to find out more about the bird so I could list it in the database of "found" birds.
I talked to "Bob and Barb". They are a nice elderly couple that live right on the beach. They invited me over to see the bird. In the little carrier I saw not a cockatiel, but a budgie. I told them I volunteered for parrot911 in hopes of reuniting lost birds with their owners. They got the biggest kick out of this. They were very affiable and we hit if off right away. They asked me to take "Smitty" because they really didnt' know anything about birds and they had a dog.
I remember the day I went over, it was July 11th. Greenhead season was just about starting.
(Greenheads are nasty green flies that bite hard)
There was a tornado warning issued over the radio. Bob urged me to stay a bit until the warning passed. I thought to myself, "a tornado? At Salisbury beach!??" The skies instantly turned black and wind picked up at a violent rate. The house shook a little but it passed as quickly as it came. It turned out a tornado did touch down on route 95 at the Hampton tolls. It picked up a pickup truck just as the poor sucker was waiting to pay the toll. He was unharmed but the truck was knocked over. Maybe this was sign Smitty was meant to go home with me.
When I got home, I scanned the database of missing budgies on my computer. There was one possible match from Portsmouth, NH only a few miles north. I made the call but it turned out the budgie that was missing was a yellow female. Smitty was a green male. I continued the search and called the local animal control officers and vet clinics to see if they have heard of any lost budgies.
During this time I kept Smitty from the other birds just in case he was carrying any zoonoses. Since it looked like he was going to be staying awhile I made an appointment with an avian vet for a checkup. It turned out he was carrying a chlamydia-like bacterium possibly due from picking on grungy seaweed on the beach. I administered the necessary antibotics directed by the vet for 14 days. Smitty recovered nicely.
Smitty established himself as one little hooligan terrorizing the cockatiels by dive bombing them and yelling raucously. I kept in contact with Bob and Barb filling them in with Smitty's exploits.
Bob and Barb were very active in the community especially with the senior center. They asked me if I wouldn't mind doing a little talk for the "old folks' at the assisted living center. I thought to myself,"sure, why not!"
I bought some of my old Bird Talk magazines and Birds & Bloom magazines that I figured someone might be interested in reading. I brought "Button", my friendly yellow cockatiel, and "Whook", my talking budgie, to the talk. "Button" was an instant hit with the elderly ladies. They giggled like little kids delighted that Button choose to land on them. Button enjoyed the attention as well. Whook, however, clammed up. Whook is now an elderly bird and it just wasn't his day.
Button was the star of the show. My audience enjoyed the "Smitty" story as well as other birdy stories I had presented. It turned out to be a great day.
It is amazing how one little bird can affect your life !

the cult of personality

Tonight I have a golden lab named "Moose" that I am scheduled to take care of.
I have to give him his dinner, take him for a long walk to tire him out and to make sure he poops. I've been taking care of this particular dog since he was an eight week old puppy.
He was such a delicious little ball of fur. He looked just like the puppy on the "cottonelle" toilet paper commercial. His owner is a petite, well-dressed, meticulous young lady. I would've guessed her for having a cute little yorkie dog rather a huge active dog. The owner promptly took him to doggie school for training as well as doggie daycare to learn socialization skills. She would leave instructions for me in order to reinforce his training skills whenever I had a "date' with the dog.
I appreciated this. This makes for a very conscientious dog owner to make sure the dog doesn't get away with any naughty behavior.
Well, as you dog owners know: a dog is a dog. They will definitely 'test" you to see if they can pull any of their shenanigans. Just think of when you were in grade school and you had a substitute teacher.
Yup, out come the spit balls and straws.
"Moose" is no longer a little puppy. His name fits him aptly. He is a BIG dog. I soon discovered one of his little 'see-if-can-get-away-with-this-one" tricks. He would leap up at you and shove his tongue in your mouth to greet you.
Oh my God, gross!
I wouldn't even want Mel Gibson to do that me never mind a dog that licks his own balls and eats rabbit turds! Nasty!
Since I now know Moose will try this little trick on me I've learned to keep my arm up to prevent him for gunning for my face. I can not imagine his owner tolerating this sort of thing since she is so particular about when he eats, when he goes for a walk and leaves a detailed list of good behavior reinforcements.
Then I think, hmmmm, could guests or family members that like to "rough house" with the dog when they come to visit let him get away with this naughty behavior?. I am not saying or even suggesting that this is the case in this situation. Moose could be "just being a dog".
However, I've seen other situations where the lady of the house is the organized multitasker disciplinarian and the gentleman of the house is a more of a laid back "anything goes" kind of guy. Dogs end up getting mixed messages of what is acceptable behaviors.
But what I find really interesting is why people pick certain breeds of dogs over others.
When I first meet a potential customer I try to guess what kind of dog they have by the way they look and present themselves.
I am generally way off base in regards to linking certain dog types with owners.
I've had an interview with one potential customer who was a petite size lady with a disability who had these two gigantic monster-like dogs with absolutely no manners or discipline. When I first saw these dogs peeking out of sliding glass door I first thought had ponies living with her. Needless to say I ended up not taking on this client. I've would've guessed from talking to her she would've had a well behaved midsized mutt that could fetch her the paper and carry her shoes over to her. There was something that obviously attracted this lady to these monster dogs.
I used to go to these tropical fish hobbyist conventions. I could tell right off the bat by just looking at certain people and they way they carried themselves of what kid of fish they had.
The snotty professional types (usually from New York city) always had expensive cichlids.
The overweight (often sloppy) types had goldfish. The punkish goth types had oddball fish.
The normal middle American types generally had community tanks of various species.
After attending parrot conventions, I am finding certain bird species fall into character stereotyping as well.
AaaaaH! I wonder what that says about me having a house full of birds or having had two large iguanas!?!?
Hmmmmmmm!

Fresh Baby

It feels like spring is in the air. We've been fortunate at the coast line not to have had a snowy winter like other parts of the country. Regardless, you can tell you are a "New Englander" when the temps reach 40F and everyone is wearing shorts and t-shirts. You can tell you are a "Hampton Beacher" when temps reach 50F and you have your bathing suit on. The beaches were packed as if it was the middle of July. Everyone emerges like sleepy groundhogs in anticipation of spring.
My birds definitely feel the signs of spring.
Linus (my male cockatiel) makes a total pest of himself with his aging bride "Lucille". She is much older than Linus and I think she is going through birdy menopause. She sleeps more often and prefers to explore the other cages without him pestering her. Linus, on the other hand, is a randy young male. He sings his little raucous mating tune more than ever since the daylight is changing. He has gotten pecked on the head more than once for his persistant advances and his bossy behavior. During the day, I have to separate them because of his constaint badgering. He is OK with it so long as he can see her. If she is out of his sight for even a second he has a panic attack.
They are a mated pair. Linus will flirt with visiting female cockatiels but he remains faithful to Lucille. Lucille will sneak in "Louie's' cage (he is a male princess of wales parakeet). Louie enjoys her company and will serenade her. Linus will have an absolute fit pacing back and forth on his cage.
In 2005, Linus and Lucille had two successful clutches of babies. In Lucille's first clutch, she laid 6 eggs but only one egg hatched. This baby was named "Fresh baby". She hatched on February 19th 2005.
Both parents were very diligent in their job sharing chore of feeding the baby and guarding the nestbox. After 3 weeks, when the baby's feathers started to emerge things started to change.
Fresh Baby was a lutino. A lutino is an all yellow cockatiel usually with red eyes. They are basically albinos but more of a yellow lutin color. Linus and Lucille were normal greys. Both Linus and Lucille felt this" yellow baby" was a defect and started to pluck at her feathers and tear at her rather than to feed her.
I recognized the signs of this possible infanticide and had to intervene.
They were no longer interested in caring for this baby and were already starting exhibit nesting behavior to ready themselves for a new, more worthy, clutch.
As you might guess, panic set in. Baby cockatiels are not full weaned til they are between 8-10 weeks old. I got on the internet in search of how to hand feed baby cockatiels and found phone numbers to call experienced breeders about what to do.
I put her in an aquarium with a heating pad (not too hot) wrapped in a little blanket and a stuffed toy for her to cuddle with. Depending on the age and weight of baby depended on amount of food given and how many times a day. The food was special formula mix called Exact formula by Kaytee. The food had to be a certain temp (105F measured with a candy thermometer) and the right consistency (not too watery or not lumpy- which would cause serious problems with digestion). It was tricky as well trying to manipulate a syringe. You had to be slow and steady entering on the right side of the mouth pointing to the left side of the mouth. This was extremely important to do this or else the baby could suffocate.
This was extremely stressful in the beginning because so many things could go wrong plus at this young age feedings were done multiple times a day (as well as night). You had to check their crop to make sure it was empty and emptying at the correct rate. The crop is a sac that hold their food in their esophagus which then empties into their digestive track. Her little head would bob enthusiastically once she got the swing of getting tasty warm food. Her little face would be a mess and I would promptly have to wash her face after each feedings so the food wouldn't harden on her feathers. At the times when I wasn't feeding her I would put her on my warm stomache and groom any debris off her feathers. As she got older the amount of food increased but the frequency of feedings declined.
When she was about 6 weeks she started getting a little fussy. It was getting hard to feed her. I was worried something was wrong but as I learned this was sort of normal for a baby to fuss because she was ready to fledge (fly). She would flap her little wings and try to take off. I had to be very careful with this so she wouldn't crash into something.
This fledgling period went on for about two weeks. She could fly and land safely. I set up a little perch in her aquarium so she would learn how to perch normally. I started to introduce her to solid foods like cheerios and millets sprigs. She still had to be hand fed up to 10 weeks but with less frequency.
Fresh Baby was my 'first' successful baby.

sense of humor needed!

The other day, my sister called me on the phone.
It seems like every time I get on the phone with her the show begins. I could barely hear her speak. All I could hear was her two kids whining, crying and carrying on like brats.
As I was about to scream, "how can you stand it!?"
She bellowed to me, "Oh my God! How can you stand all that racket!?!"
I thought to myself, "huh?!?"
"The birds! The birds! How can you stand all that noise!?!" She screeched.
As I turned looking over my shoulder, I saw two of my budgies, who I call appropriately enough,"the gangs of New York", on top of one of the cockatiel's cage provoking and teasing, "Linus," my male cockatiel. He was screaming at the top of his lungs for them to promptly move away. Meanwhile, my princess of wales parakeet ,"Louie", was all in a uproar over this protesting by honking loudly. "Louie's" honking provoked the other tiels to join in on the chorus.
I remember my sister saying to me some time ago that in order to survive kids you need a sense of humor.
The same goes for having and caring for animals.
It seems that every time I have company (which isn't very often) there mysteriously appears a "mystery poop" stuck on e.g. the kitchen cabinets, the living room wall, the couch or on your hand no matter how thoroughly you scour your home of detritus prior to the visitation. The poop just magically appears just in view of your company especially when you brag on how much a neat-nik you are.
When dealing with animals, your sense of humor ends up falling into the catagory of 'bathroom" humor.
Last Halloween, one of my dog walking clients was concerned that one of her dogs got into the Halloween candy by mistake. She asked me to keep an eye on "Riley" because she might have eaten some chocolate. Chocolate can be poisonous for dogs. So far, everything seemed normal during the walk She was as active as ever. When she stopped to do" her business" she dropped a fully intact still-in-the-wrapper milky way candy bar.
"Riley's" pal ,"KD", a little poodle, had this issue of eating anything that was within reach. One day the owner asked me if I seen a box of ear plugs on the counter. I didn't, but I saw a chewed up empty box on the floor. I took her for her usual walk not giving it much thought. When she stopped to 'do her business" I reached in my pocket for a handy "poop bag". My eyes almost bugged out of my head when she looked as if she was pooping out a giant pink nerf ball. Three more popped out.
It appeared that she indeed ate the ear plugs and they expanded 10 times their normal size when they finally made their way out. Not only did she eat the ear plugs but the plastic label as well which appropriately came out wrapped around a turd stating: "made in China".
My cousin had the same sort issues with her dogs swallowing all kinds of things. One incident involved a missing sock. You can probably guess where she found the missing sock.
Let's put it this way, at first she thought it was a tail.
My budgie "Whook' can talk. This little bird had a knack of saying things at the most appropriate (or inappropriate) times depending on how you looked at things. One day, we had a problem with the sewer backing up into the sink due to a branch clogging the lines. I immediately called the 'roto-rooter" guys to come and fix it. The house stunk to high heaven .When the "roto-rooter" guy came in the kitchen to explain to me what the problem was I could see "Whook" bobbing his head rearing to go.
As clear as a bell, Whook screamed out, "JESUS CHRIST! JESSSSUS CHRIIIST! YOU STINK! OH My GOD! You stink! STINK STINK STINK! YOOOU STINK!"
The guy whirled around to see who was insulting him and just saw "Whook" just sitting there.
"Whook" also seems to enjoy doing "teenage boy" things to his soft perch while singing and chatting merrily, "oh I'm a biscuit! Oh I'm a biscuuuit!" especially when I have company. It's embarrassing when my company asks me what the bird is doing.
I generally try to ignore it.
Oh yeah, never a dull moment with pets!