Want to see more from Hagen? Click on Rudy’s nose!

I’ve been getting a workout every morning driving down I95 to Miami Airport, to fly hither, thither and yon. If you’re unfamiliar with I95 south to Miami at morning rush hour, it’s not unlike the boat trip up the Nung River in the film, Apocalypse Now:

And of course, being as it’s Christmas time, there is a downpour of Christmas music on the radio. One morning while I was busily avoiding a pile-up involving what appeared to be an EPA field inspection vehicle and a toxic waste hauler just south of Hallandale Beach Boulevard, Gene Autry’s version of “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer began playing. And I began thinking about the lyrics because they bothered me.

 I don’t know if Santa’s reindeer are girls or boys but they’ve always bothered me. Such snobs! Even when I was a kid, I thought they were just so “Junior High.”

 You know Dasher and Dancer

And Prancer and Vixen,

Comet and Cupid

And Donner and Blitzen.

But do you recall

The most famous reindeer of all?

 You know what? You guys are a bunch of snotty brats. Jealous, mean and “nose-ist.” Just because Rudolph had a nose that glowed, and was big and red, you had to be mean to him? Nice.

Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer

 Okay, so maybe he has sinus issues.

 Had a very shiny nose

 Nothing a little powder wouldn’t fix.

 And if you ever saw it

You would even say it glows

 I don’t know what the issue is here, but there’s no reason to pick nits.

 All of the other reindeer

Used to laugh and call him names

 (Bitches…)

 They never let poor Rudolph

Play in any reindeer games

 Am I the only person that ever noticed this? He may get picked last, but he should at least be allowed to play.

 Then one foggy Christmas Eve

Santa came to say,

“Rudolph with your nose so bright

Won’t you guide my sleigh tonight?”

 This must have done wonders for Rudolph’s self-esteem.

 Then all the reindeer loved him

 (Two-faced, brown-nosing, social-climbing battle axes…)

 And they shouted out with glee,

“Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer

You’ll go down in history!”

 Coattail riding, antler-knocking, Real-Housewives-of-Orange-County, “Whoo-Hoo!” screaming harridans. They’re just seeking approval from the Big Man in red.

Cartoon Brew! 

Now this isn’t fodder for kids. It teaches a bad lesson and I can’t believe we let them get away with it for as long as they have. Now it’s just my opinion, but could someone re-write this stuff and make it a bit more politically correct?

And it’s not that I’m into being entirely politically correct in a huge way.  While a stereotype may be a general impression or picture of something; right or wrong, it might just be somewhat accurate.

 But this isn’t stereotyping poor little Rudolph as being the underdog that makes it to the big time because he has heart or guts or spunk. He has a physical deformity that ends up being exploited by someone else for their own gain.

 However, I’m sure Rudy was thinking, “Whatever shuts up those two-faced, social-climbing caribou and gets them off my back is fine with me.”

I can’t blame him. I hope your Holiday season is going along swimmingly. And don’t forget: “Never get out of the boat.”

The problem is that I have very little drawing ability. Photographs have had to do.  I’ve made a few of them and hope you get a laugh.

This news release was just posted by Best Friends Animal Society. Media Relations Manager Barbara Williamson just emailed it to me and asked that I post it here on “Parrot Nation:”

Exploding parrot population in U.S. will cause crisis, predicts national

Best Friends Animal Society

National animal welfare organization Best Friends Animal Society

http://www.bestfriends.org

has long advocated for homeless pets and parrot experts at the Society’s sanctuary say the pet

parrot population explosion is troubling:

http://www.prweb.com/releases/Parrot/crisis/prweb8847401.htm

Mattie at the Vet's Office before her surgery

What a weekend. It’s been pretty tense around here. Mattie the dog started going downhill over the weekend and completely lost her appetite. She wasn’t moving around, she was listless and didn’t even want to go out. As soon as my Vet’s office was open, I called them and made an appointment.

Mattie is an old dog, a Shih Tzu I found in my parking lot. She was dirty, matted and had multiple infections. 600 bucks later, I had a dog on my hands instead of this limping train wreck: 

Mattie, minutes after I found her in the parking lot.

Like the fungus they found in her ears, she grew on me. I grew to love her. She’s old, stately and quiet. More like a cat, she prefers to lie around, yet she perks up when there’s food around. She’s a good dog and even goes on appearances with me when it’s possible. Here we are at a Petco kissing hands and shaking babies for BIRD TALK:

This weekend, that wasn’t happening.

I got her into her Vet and Dr. Bob Schactner started working, trying to find out what the issue was. We figured it out. After X-rays, we knew she had something in her intestinal tract, but we didn’t know what. Mattie doesn’t play with toys and she’s old so she isn’t much for doing much investigation. She goes out, does her business and we go back home.  But there was something stuck in there. Bob went right to work. Time for surgery. We were hoping Mattie would live through it. She’s no spring chicken, but whatever it was, it had to come out.

I went home to wait and worry. Bob said it would be about an hour. An hour passed. An hour and a half. At two hours I was wigging out. But finally he called. Mattie was stable. He had found one nasty looking hunk of something in her bowel just beneath her stomach. And it had perforated her bowel in two places. The object to the right of the quarter is what he pulled out of Mattie’s gut:

We have no idea what it is. It’s not metal, but it has the consistency of plastic. But it stinks to high heaven and seems organic. God knows where she picked it up or even what it is. Mattie is in the hospital on an IV with antibiotics and fluids with glucose.

She had a tough time snapping out of the anesthetic:

Here is John, a vet tech that helped Mattie. (Yeah, I know…he’s hunky) :

And she’s still not out of the woods. She survived the surgery and she survived the first night. She’s a tough little dog but I’m still worried. I want her around for a good while longer.

Have you ever met a person who just isn’t cut out to be a bird person? You know what I’m talking about. We’ve all met them. They have no business having a parrot in their home. You know this in your bones and can feel that understanding in the deepest darkest reaches of your soul. You know this as well as you remember your own name.

They. Should. Not. Ever. Have. A Bird. Ever.

But why? Why shouldn’t they have a bird? I have listed some reasons below, the imagined quote from the person acquiring the bird and a few comments:

No time:

“They’re so little! They should be easy to take care of, right?”

(Sweetie, you think you’re short on time now? Get a bird and you’ll see how little time you have…)

♦ ♦ ♦

No patience:

“This should be a snap! He can just stay in his cage! They like that, don’t they?”

(I’ve seen you throw a fit when the person giving you a pedicure used the wrong shade of polish on your toes. Get a bird and that pedicure money is going to end up being used for food. Or toys. Or perches. Then you won’t have to worry about what the hell shade she used, because you won’t be able to afford to get a pedicure.)

♦ ♦ ♦

You know damned well they have no idea what they’re getting into:

“Awwww! He’s so cuuuuute! I want one!”

( Ummm, no you don’t. We’ll see how cute you think he is when you don’t train him and he’s hanging by his beak from your earlobe.)

♦ ♦ ♦

They’ve already unloaded the first two birds they ever had:

“Well, I think I just got a couple of bad ones. This little one seems kind of nice.”

(And now you’re getting ready to screw up a third bird. Great….)

♦ ♦ ♦

They think it’s a “cheap” pet:

“How much can they eat, right? And seed doesn’t cost very much, right?”

(How do you feel about selling all of your hideous knock-off designer purses in a garage sale?)

♦ ♦ ♦

They have no idea what they eat, and just think seed is fine because that’s what they “heard” you should feed birds:

“They just eat seed, right?”

(No comment here. Just the sound of my head banging against the wall: Wham! Wham! Wham!)

♦ ♦ ♦

They want to give one to someone else as a Christmas or birthday gift:

“Oh, he’ll love this little guy! And I’ll also buy a bag of seed and put it in a Christmas stocking! That’s a really cute idea!”

(Continued head banging…)

♦ ♦ ♦

They think because a bird is relatively small, they aren’t much work and won’t take up too much space in their apartment:

“I think I have space in the back utility room. It’s nice and dark back there. He’ll like that right?”

(The answer is, “No. No, he won’t like that, you blithering idiot.”)

♦ ♦ ♦

They were a big fan of the show, “Baretta:”

“Fred was soooo cute! They just do those tricks naturally, right?”

(I’m in pain now. If you don’t shut up and do some research, I’m going to end up going completely through this wall.)

♦ ♦ ♦

They refer to a Cockatoo as a Cockatiel. Or they reverse that:

“Those are like parakeets, right?”

(Could someone call the paramedics? I seem to have damaged my frontal lobe.)

♦ ♦ ♦

They want one just like their neighbor’s bird because he can do tricks and he talks. You ask them what kind of parrot their neighbor has and they answer, “Green:”

“He was just the cutest thing. And he could swear and everything!”

(Gee, how cute. I’ll bet he’s a big hit at the church picnic. Why is the room spinning?)

♦ ♦ ♦

They like the idea of a bird as a pet because they don’t need to be walked:

“You see, if I get a bird, they don’t have to go outside and they’re easy, because they don’t need much work or attention. And they’re small, see? So no barking and they’ll just sit there and chirp and…”

(No comment. Just the sound of an ambulance siren slowly fading away.)

Good God. First, I decide I’m not going to the Houston Parrot Festival. I can’t take the time off of work. I need to save money for a new computer and the second generation iPad that everyone said is going to be so sleek and sexy. So I need to fly more and stay home and not go to the Festival.

I find out the maintenance on my condo has gone up. So I can’t go, because I have to shell out money for that. I need to work more. So I can’t go.

I need to start cranking out the quizzes and the “Memos” for BIRD TALK so I shouldn’t take the time out and go to the Festival. So I can’t go.

Irene Pepperberg is coming to Florida for a fundraiser for The Alex Foundation and that’s pretty important to me and that’s going to cost some money, so I can’t go to the Festival.

This time of year is always rough on me because my condo insurance, my car insurance are all due in December which is when Christmas comes. So I can’t go.

I have to prepare for the “Chop” Demo I’m giving in April at the Midwest Bird Expo and coordinating that is going to be a nightmare. So I can’t go.

And I made a bunch of feather items that I could just send so they can be auctioned off. I could simply pop them in a box and send then to Cheryl Rose, one of the Festival Coordinators. I’m sure they’d be glad to arrange to put them in the auction for me…

Screw it. I’m going.

Link: Houston Parrot Festival

What is fine dining to a parrot? No, this is not a rhetorical question. I’m really asking. I think fine dining  for a parrot is, or should be something that is not only good for them, but is fun for them as well. Now Parker’s idea of fine dining is eating directly off of my plate.  I eat pretty healthy stuff most of the time. Salads with a bit of protein on the top with some hard boiled egg, some beans and some feta cheese. I love that stuff and I tend to eat this way often.

Naturally, the little hog goes right for cheese and the meat, as if to say, “Whoah! Now this is something I can sink my beak into.” while he tucks into it as if I hadn’t fed the little dude for two days. Now I can get away with this occasionally because of their staple diet. They are on a really good diet. Between all of the “Chop,” and their bean mix which has a ton of vegetables in it, my guys eat really, really, well. They tend to be “every other day” heavy eaters. I’ve asked them about that, but to date I’ve received no answers.

They just eat heavily on one day and lightly the next. This has been going on for years and if anyone can explain this to me, I’d love to know why.

When it comes to their food, I don’t screw around. Aside from all that “Chop,” their bean mix, and some of my vegetable leftovers, they also get toppings of bee pollen, nuts, some fruit and milk thistle seed. So they’re in pretty good shape.

Every year their Avian Vet, Sam Backos sort of quietly shakes his head and says, “I wish I could find something wrong with Parker, but he’s in terrific shape.” This makes me smile because I know Sam’s kidding me.

I had what I thought was a great idea a while back. Here’s the idea:

I took some pasta shells and stuffed them with “Chop.” They hit the deck. I guess I’ll have to come up with something else because that little gem struck out. Now if I had stuffed them with cheese, that might have been another story.

Parker with his Girlfriend, Maria

If you have parrots or birds of any sort, you probably know by now that it is not for the weak. I’m sure the uninitiated most likely think that keeping birds is a delicate hobby, not unlike growing orchids, or stuffing ships inside bottles. Au Contraire!

I am constantly getting up and scooping Parker or Pepper off the floor while they meander around the home and putting them back on their play gyms. Drop a pan in the Kitchen and I have a fly-off of three parrots all zooming in different directions.

Keeping birds involves getting up in the morning, every morning whether you feel like sleeping in or not. I haven’t gotten up later than nine a.m. in almost eight years. And that nine a.m. get-up was only because I didn’t get in until 3:30 in the morning due to a diversion to the Bahamas that lasted 7 hours.

Cage cleaning is easier for me because I cover the substrate with newspaper. All I have to do is gather up the paper, throw it away and replace. Of course I’m always wandering around to the neighbors begging for their Sunday editions of the Fort Lauderdale Sun Sentinel, but still, it sure beats scrubbing down grates.

Making my “Chop” recipe in my big-ass stockpot is a four hour exercise of being on my feet in the kitchen, but I only have to do that every four months or so. Same with my frozen bean mix.

I try to “fly” my birds on my hand every once in a while so they get exercise. A few repetitions of that and you get a nice little work out.

And of course Parker gets a little rambunctious now and again when he’s supposed to be sitting on my shoulder while I type and he occasionally decides to jump down and explore the couch. And I have to retrieve him. Or he jumps on to Peppers cage and bangs the photo on the wall. So I have to get up and retrieve him.

Or the little sucker decides to go and harass Nyla, which she hates. She’s a feisty little sucker and won’t put up with it, so she fights back. So I have to get up and retrieve him.

I think I’m going to change my name to “Fetch.”

Photo Courtesy of My Friend Kent Hammit

Well, it’s almost here. Yup, it’s almost time for Parker to swing into full-tilt “Screaming Little Hellion” mode. I can’t wait for it to be over.

Why is breeding season always so painful? Well, I’ll tell you why it’s painful to me. It’s because Parker makes my ears bleed for about two months. I leave the room, he screams. I come back into the room, he screams. I go to the bathroom, he screams. I try and take him out of his “room,” and he takes a whack at me. Picky, picky, picky. I know he’s just acting the way he should, that he’s only doing what his instincts are telling him to do.

But I don’t have to like it. In preparation for when he’s in full swing, I am currently charging up my iPod and stocking up on the sedatives. We’ll both survive, each in our own way.

I waited 20 years to make an impulse purchase. I got a parrot. I bring the little guy home. I almost passed out on the way home thinking that what I did was the biggest mistake of my life. But I managed to drive the rest of the way home without either losing my lunch or hurting anyone in the process.

Yes, I was upset.

But once I got home, I was okay. I had done what I had done, and chose to live with my decision. I spent the better part of a couple of hours trying to come up with a name for this little dude, or dudette. I had no idea which. Once comfortable with my decision, I said to my new little bird, “Parker, I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I have a feeling my life is about to change. But no matter what, I promise I’ll try and take care of you the best I can, okay?” Parker looked up at me and replied, “Coooh?” It was one of the best decisions I ever made in my life and I haven’t regretted one minute of it.

I have just returned home from the Companion Parrot Training class presented by Natural Encounters. I am now armed with a set of “training tools” given to me by Dr. Susan Friedman and Steve Martin. I know how to train a parrot now. Retrieving Parker from his stand, I set up a peg and ring prop. Within five minutes, I have Parker slamming rings on to the peg like he was Larry Byrd shooting hoops in a championship basketball game. I had tried for months to train him to do it with no success. and now, he is looking at me as if to say, “This? You wanted me to do this? Well, why didn’t you just say so!? Gawwwwd!” I am gleeful and proud and it is a gorgeous moment.

I’ve gotten it. I finally understand! The frustration, the confusion, the hell I went through to finally understand the concept of negative reinforcement. I walk around my condo tidying up and humming “I Think She’s Got It,” from the musical, My Fair Lady. Once I am through tidying up, I go to my computer, start it up  and write a long email to Susan Friedman explaining my light bulb moment. I was explaining to her the mental backflips I went through to comprehend it. When it finally sunk in, I saw it with such clarity, it was blinding. Along the way in the email, I meandered off-topic and began writing a bit about life on an airplane and finished the email with profound thanks for her patience with me while I was taking her class, “LLP: Living and learning With Parrots.” She emails back five minutes later and says something to the effect of, “If you don’t begin writing it’ll be a waste. I don’t care what you write about in the field of birds, you just have to write.” It was Susan’s kick in my keester that got me rolling in the field of writing. That moment in time gave me the confidence to step out of myself for the first time and realize that my “wishing days” were over and it was about time to put my rear on the line and do something about something I had a hunch I could do pretty well all of my life.

I have adopted a neglected plucked-out African Grey. She is older and I had worries whether or not I could get her straightened out enough to be handled. It took me two days to convince Pepper to come out of her cage. I offer her my hand. She steps up gingerly and whistles. She does not bite and accepts the almond I have offered her, delicately nibbling away. Two weeks later she is snuggling at my neck on the couch. It was a moment made of magic.

It’s September and I’m in a very cold enclosure, walls painted with icy mountains and frozen fields. Slippery, wet, uneven rocks under my feet challenge my balance and I steady myself in hopes that I will not fall into the central pool. I’ve been told that no one has ever fallen into the pool, although with the way my luck runs, I’ll be jazzing up that record in no time.

Surrounding me is a flock of penguins, carefully waddling up to me to greet, meet and hopefully con me out of a fish or two. Camera in hand, I am shooting their gorgeous faces and hoping for a clear, well framed photograph that might, just might express the breathtaking beauty I actually see. I am overwhelmed with the privilege and the honor of working with these penguins at the Cincinnati Zoo. Not many people get this opportunity and the palpable feeling of a “once in a lifetime moment” takes over. I know this is special. I smell of fish. I am dead tired and sore, but nothing, and I mean nothing will ever yank this memory away. Penguins are honking and jostling for a better position so they might get a neck scratch.  Bubba, an Ibis swoops down and joins the crowd of Rockhoppers at my feet nagging me for a fish. I don’t think I had every been happier before this moment. Ever.

I’m a little nervous. I’m following Steve Malowski into the Andean Condor enclosure with a plate of food for them containing a couple of whole rats, a mouse behind or two, some fish, a few pinkie mice and other rather unappetizing items you would retch at if you saw it, but is the main staple for these enormous birds.

Steve has a broom which he brings into the enclosure for my peace of mind, but mainly he simply uses it to lean on while he surveys the enclosure and his two enormous condors. I shake a little bit. With a twelve foot wing-span, these relatively huge dudes sit not too far away and seem to observe us with amusement, and curiosity. Getting taloned in the back by one of these guys wouldn’t be fun and would leave one hell of a mark. Despite my nervousness, it’s a great place to be. I am seeing one of the most magnificent birds in the world close up. I am getting beautiful video. I am present and alive in this moment of clarity. These birds are monstrously big and they are looking me in the eye. It simply takes my breath away.

I am at my mailbox. Among the bills, the junk mail advertising low insurance rates and 60 % off at Michael’s Crafts on picture framing, is a manilla envelope.  It is February of of 2009 and I have no idea who sent this to me. I open it and two magazines slip out. They are advanced copies of the 2009, March issue of BIRD TALK Magazine. I turn to page 38 and see the first column of “Memo to Parker and Pepper.” I let go with a little squeal, do a a “happy dance” right then and there and reread the words I know all too well. To me, there is nothing better in the world. Nothing.

I have flown up to Chicago having been asked to cover the Midwest Bird Expo. I enter the Kane County Fairgrounds building where it is being held and make my way through what seems like miles of aisles of bird toys, food, cages, t-shirts and swings. I finally meet Irena Schulz. It was like we knew each other all our lives. She introduces me to Sy Montgomery, who just released her amazing book, Birdology. I feel like I have known her forever. I’ve just made two friends. It was a great day and my post about the Expo pleased so many people. The experience went off without a hitch and I had a wonderful time. I leave wishing it would have lasted just one more day.

I am on a plane yet again, headed to Houston. I’m excited because I will be seeing old friends, meeting new ones and having a very good time. I’m off to the Houston Parrot Festival for the fourth time and I have brought four feather scarves to donate to the live auction. It makes me feel good to be able to donate something that I have created that will raise some money for the National Parrot Rescue and Preservation Foundation, otherwise known as the N.P.R.P.F. I procure my scarf models. We work those scarves. We raise about six hundred dollars for them. It makes me happy.

After a quick drive in the dark at 5:30 in the morning, I arrive at Best Friends Animal Sanctuary with Piggy Paradise employee Patti Platia. I have had three and a half hours of sleep. We drop off our bags in the office and set to work setting up the day for the Best Friends volunteer arrivals. I wash some pig plates and clean the bathroom. Patti calls me over and takes me outside. The sun is coming up and is making its way up the side of the sharp cliffs just on the other side of a horse pasture. The scenery is phenomenal. I have never seen such gorgeous rusts and pinks and copper colors. It is an amazing moment and it makes me want to cry. I can’t wait to write about it.

These are but a few moments in my life where I saw with perfect clarity, what life is all about for me. It’s about writing, birds, writing, traveling, writing and experiencing what other people do. When I work these experiences, my life takes a back burner and the work is about the work of other people, other organizations, other projects, other lives. I can step out of myself and learn what other people do so well, although I usually don’t do it with the speed or precision they do, I can certainly write about their expertise with accuracy. Irena Schulz once referred to me as “The Indiana Jones” of the Bird World. I could probably be more accurately described as the “Lucy in the Candy Factory” of the bird world. Nevertheless, I keep plugging away, working to seek out new adventures, great people and yet another post about this life with birds.

I don’t know what 2011 will bring, but it will probably involve luggage. However, as I said on the last day of High School during the last lunch period with my classmates when we were all exchanging thoughts about what we thought we’d all end up doing: “I don’t know what I’ll end up doing, but I hope it’s interesting.” So far it has, and I hope it continues.

My wish for the New year for you is that you learn new things, make new friends, and raise the bar of parrot care, not only for your birds, but for the lives of others.

Have a Happy (and interesting) New Year!

Patricia

35000 Feet: Somewhere between Guayaquil, Ecuador and Miami