Pickles The Parrot Returns: My Continued Adventures with a Bird Brain (11 page)

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Authors: Georgi Abbott

Tags: #pets, #funny, #stories, #humour, #birds, #parrot, #pet care, #african grey

BOOK: Pickles The Parrot Returns: My Continued Adventures with a Bird Brain
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So, Pickles doesn’t play with toys as much
these days but he still loves to just hang around on stuff, talk,
sing, listen to the stereo or just hang out with his mommy and
daddy. I think his favorite thing to do is just hang out on the
couch – especially with daddy – staring out the window, building
blanket forts and pretending he’s a burrowing owl with lots of
hoots, or napping or cuddling on Neil’s chest with scratches and
beaky rubs.

Here’s Neil’s instructions for building a
playstand …

Materials

* 2ftX4ft ¾ “ plywood

* Latex gloss paint

* Stand 26”-30”

* Pine 1”X2” (or 1X4) 2 – 4ft and 2 – 26”
lengths

* Lag bolts and washers

* Wrench to fit lag bolts

* SS decking screws 1 1/2'” 2 1/2”

* Bird safe tree branches (no pesticides) assorted
lengths, washed with bleach and well rinsed

* SS screw-in eye hooks of various sizes

Tools

* Drill

* Screwdriver

* Saw

* Paintbrush

Method

* The plywood you choose must have one good, smooth,
sanded side. Paint the good side with at least 2 coats of high
gloss latex paint. It is important to have a smooth, easy to clean
(and scrape) surface.

* It’s easier to mount it on the stand now in order
to visualize the play area as you design it. The best stand is the
pedestal type with only one center post attached to the playstand.
If you use legs at the corners your bird will use them to access
the floor.

* Designing the play area can be trial and error –
it’s easy enough to change things around if you have a good supply
of tree branches. The ones I make have 2 branches running the full
4ft length of the stand about 3ft above the plywood base. Uprights
to the upper branches should have short branches protruding for
your bird to climb on. I like to utilize a Y branch that allows
Pickles to easily climb from the base all the way to the top.

* To attach the uprights drill a hole in the stand,
slightly smaller than the diameter of the lag bolts. Drill the
center core of the upright as well to prevent splitting and to
serve as a guide. Make sure the end of the branch you are attaching
to the base is cut straight so it sits flush on the base. Using lag
bolts with washers bolt from under the stand – this is likely a 2
person job. Stainless steel bolts and washers aren’t necessary as
your bird will never access these.

* When attaching the upper branches to the tops of
the uprights use only SS hardware. Take care that screws do not go
all the way through with the point protruding. Always pre-drill
pilot holes to prevent splitting.

* Now you can attach the pine border/edge. This will
keep your bird from chewing on the plywood. Do not paint the border
as it will be chewed on. Mount it flush to the bottom of the
plywood so it rises above the painted surface. It serves as both a
perching area and helps contain debris from ending up on the
floor.

Some Considerations

* Branches should be of a diameter that your bird’s
talons don’t touch as they wrap around.

* Don’t make it too easy for your bird to get
around. Challenge him a bit. Greys have an incredible reach.

* Toys. Hang lots of toys. They can be used to help
your bird access impossible to get to areas.

* Of course any of the sizes can be altered to suit
your space. (height, length, width of playstand)

* Branches that extend beyond the base will likely
lead to a mess on the floor below.

* Perches or toys directly below a perch are sure to
become littered.

* Less is better. In my experience 4 or 5 uprights
(at least 2 of them Y branches) and 2 long, parallel high branches
is about ideal – at least for Pickles.

Chapter 8
Want Some Music?


Rain is like a
song.  It sounds like music, it has a rhythm and it kinda has
lyrics.  Except the lyrics are wet and get all up in your
face.”


I go beep, beep & mommy
says "Roadrunner, the coyote's after you". Cool. I go, beep, beep
again & mommy says "Roadrunner, if he catches you you're
though". ACK! But wait! I'm not REALLY a Roadrunner. Suck rocks
coyote.”


Sometimes silence is
nice.  Sometimes, if you listen close, you can hear it. 
And sometimes, if you listen real close, you can hear it say "It's
too quiet in here, could you play some music please?" Cuz everyone
likes change.  And music.”


There are little people
with little musical instruments in some of my toys.  I
press buttons and they play music for me - I get 4 of them
going at one time.  Sometimes I wonder if they have food
in there but I can't worry about it right now because I have a
concert to conduct.  After I take my bows, I will put the toys
in my seed dish and they can stick their little hands through the
speaker holes and help themselves.”


I love to sing and I love
to sleep.  I think mommy would rather listen to me
sleep.  Doesn't she realize it's HER voice I'm
using?  Now she knows how the rest of us feel.”


The snow makes everything
soooo quiet. I have to make up for it by singing and whistling
really, really, REALLY loud this morning. I think I broke one of my
eardrums. I was trying for mom’s but it kinda
backfired.”


I talk a lot but even I
know that sometimes I don't always make sense.  When I think I
might be about to talk nonsense, I disguise it as a song. 
Everything sounds great when it's sung.”


I've never actually seen
one but I hear they make good music so I told mom to buy me my own
little piano.  When she gave it to me I thought "What's
THIS?  I didn't ask for a bunch of teeth!"  They must be
very sensitive teeth because when I touched them, they
screamed.  Ahhhh, now you're talkin'.”


I was bopping away to
'Brown Sugar' on the radio and mom came in and asked what I was
doing.  I told her I was listening to Brown Sugar and she said
"You can't hear brown sugar, you taste it".  I didn't know you
could eat a song!  I'm gonna get me a belly full of
music!”


I've stopped singing whole
songs now. Why should I? All I gotta do is sing the first couple of
words and mommy sings the rest of it for me.  I just do the
back-up whistling.”

As with most parrots, Pickles loves music.
Loves anything with noise actually. He’s always harping on me to
play the stereo and he dictates the music we play. God help us if
we play a lame song – a lame song is music that is boring, and
boring is music without lots of instruments going on, a good loud
beat or lively tempo. And it’s gotta have bass - enough bass that
the house shakes enough to vibrate his perch.

Luckily he goes to bed early these days
because I’m sure the neighbors were about to run us out of the
neighborhood. Neil and I like loud music to begin with but we try
to keep the bass down and we can do that on party nights when
Pickles goes to bed.

His music has to be upbeat and lively – don’t
give him none of that mellow crap or he’ll scream so much you can’t
enjoy it anyway. Preferably, there will be violins and banjos
because those songs have a beat you can dance to. A few years ago,
Neil decided he wanted to learn to play the violin. I thought,
yeah, right
but he swore he really, really
wanted to learn so I ran out and bought him one for his birthday. I
told him that if he took it seriously and started to take lessons
and
like it
, I would take up the banjo.
That was 4 years ago. I have to concede though, the only time he
has time for lessons is in the winter and the nearest town is
Kamloops, which involves traveling a snow-covered mountain
highway.

It’s probably a good thing though. I think
the neighbors would lynch us on the highest tree in our own
bird-friendly yard and leave us hanging for suet. See, it’s not
only
us
that are learning and practicing,
but so is
Pickles
! As we learn our notes,
Pickles will too – every screeching, grating, sour note. And once
we’re past that, if we ever are, we will play lovely notes while
Pickles retains the Golden Oldies.

I have played musical instruments throughout
my life, although not anymore. I was solo flutist through secondary
and high school and I played the guitar a bit too but now I only
dabble in harmonica. I was trying to play a new song (new to me) on
the harmonica one evening and Pickles kept yelling, “Stop it! No!
Stop it! Music! Stop it!” I’m not sure if he was trying to tell me
‘stop the music’ or if he wanted me to stop playing the harmonica
and play some decent music instead of the racket I was making. I
finally stopped though, since he seemed so agitated, and what did
he do? He took up the harmonica by copying a couple of the bars I’d
been playing. Had he been telling me to stop because I was playing
so poorly or did he just want me to stop so he could practice? I
don’t know but this little recorder showed me he was right, it
sounded bad.

I don’t know how he expected me to play any
better since practicing was out of the question with him around
however; after he went to bed I started playing again. “What’s
going ON!” was shouted from under the cage cover. “Sorry Pickles” I
said as I snapped the instrument back in.

One day, we got up in the morning and
informed Pickles that tonight was date night. “Party?” he asked,
and commenced his preparations – the sound of a pop can opening and
ice being dropped in a glass, liquid tinkling over the ice cubes
and then asked us to “play some good music”. It was too early to
party yet and we told him so. This was disappointing but he quickly
got over it and cheerfully carried on with his party commentary.
Neil and I had to go out for groceries and informed Pickles we had
to go to the store and that we’d be right back. “Store??” he asked,
indignantly “Party! Wanna have a PARTY!!” he insisted. We repeated
that we’d be right back but Pickles was fit to be tied and started
yelling “NO NO NO NO!!” He never cares when we leave the house,
he’s thrilled usually, but today he was adamant that we not go.

We could hear him shouting as we left the
house, walked down the driveway and got in the car. All the
commotion incited Neeka to run through the doggie door and stand at
the fence, barking but we ignored everybody and drove away. When we
returned, all was forgiven and the party commenced.

I carried Pickles to the diningroom, where
the stereo is, and Neil put on a CD as I went to set him on his
ropes. We had neglected to turn the volume down the last time we
used it so the music came on with a crash. Pickles was startled and
fell over, clinging upside down on his rope. “What was THAT?” he
cried from wrong-side-up position. Neil apologized and gave him a
head scratch but Pickles told him to “Stop that!” so we walked
away, leaving him hanging.

I had been in the middle of putting up new
ropes and boings and some of them were just draped or hanging from
only one end, so Pickles decided to play monkey and started
swinging from one to the other, grabbing by talon or beak. One rope
was attached to the ceiling but because it was long enough to reach
the floor, I had just draped it across a couple of other ropes
until I could figure out where I wanted it. Pickles swung wildly
from one rope and grabbed the loose one on the return trip and kept
on going as his weight took the rope to the floor. The rope was
caught up so it stopped short about 5 or 6 inches from the floor
with Pickles clinging with both feet to the frayed end, his back to
the floor, feathers just brushing the ground. Bungie jumping gone
wrong. It didn’t faze him in the least but I was glad he didn’t
break his back as a result of my neglect, as the goof didn’t let
go. If the rope had been a little longer, he would have crashed to
the floor. Man, sometimes I wonder how we haven’t killed that bird
by now.

Pickles relaxed his body enough that he was
now laying on his back but he wouldn’t let go of the rope; I
figured he was expecting the rope to retract and give him a ride
back up, so I raised the rope up to another rope perch but Pickles
started flapping like mad on the trip up, causing the rope in my
hand to swing madly in air. All I could do is hold the rope out as
far as possible from my body and wait for him to settle down but
his wings were carrying them both in large, erratic arcs and
circles – the bird was out of control. He started to fly but he
wouldn’t let go with his talons so he’d come to the end of the rope
and get yanked back. Pickles would ride it out until it headed in
the opposite direction, and then he would fly in that direction
until he was pulled back again. Back and forth they went, the
momentum carrying him higher and higher until it connected with
another rope and looped above, backwards and around it – taking
Pickles with it and leaving him suspended at a higher altitude.

I still couldn’t let go of the section I had
in my hand, otherwise it would become a bungie again and head for
the ground. But the game was over for Pickles so he scampered up
the rope, found a perch and announced “Time to Party! Woo hoo!”

Pickles is pretty animated and happy during
parties, especially if we have company. He likes attention but he’s
happy to sit on his own and just observe the action too. When he
starts to wind down, he wants to sit on a knee and receive head
scratches until his eyes get heavy and sleepy. That’s when he goes
back to his cage to be covered.

He likes many children’s songs, especially
Raffi, and particularly the Banana Phone Album. He sings some of
the Banana Phone song but he’s never learned, or sung, anything
else he’s ever heard on CD’s. He likes lively piano songs and he’ll
put up with classical now and then but only if he’s in the mood for
a nap. The same thing with relaxation music, with the exception of
the one I have with rain, thunder coming and going, birds and a
bullfrog. He only had to hear that bloody bullfrog once to copy it
perfectly. Ever go out in public with a bullfrog in your birdie
backpack? Nobody notices the backpack when you’re walking toward
them, but they do notice the flatulent sounds coming from your
direction and you get a little tired of always having to turn
around to show the backpack and explain it’s just your bird. When
we’re walking, Neil says he’s in the back deliberately bouncing
with each step I take, pretending he’s walking too – or something.
But he’s decided that the bullfrog sound goes great with every
step. Think about that.

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