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A Whistle Always Brings A Smile

8/15/2013

15 Comments

 
For long years a bird in a cage
Today, flying along with the clouds.
-Zen Saying
PictureBobbie, February 2010
Typist: Bethany
Like many bird fanciers decades ago, when I bought Bobbie Birdie I was told all that mattered was to make sure not to place his cage in a draft so he wouldn't get sick. But, unbeknownst to me, Bobbie was sick when I bought him. The vet recommended I return him but I was already in love with him. So I treated him, trained him and bonded with him. It was a bond that back then I thought would only last 10-12 years. The life expectancy for cockatiels is now 15-20 years and Bobbie lived to 19.

The life expectancy for captive birds (and all our pets, actually) rises as our knowledge of how to care for them does. Nutrition is the best example of this. Captive birds used to be fed mainly seeds but we now know that pet birds do not need as many carbohydrates nor do they burn as much fat as their wild cousins. It took me over five years to finally ween Bobbie away from seed and get him to eat more nutritional, organic pellets. I gave up a few times but would then read yet another article related to getting pet birds off seeds. I was reminded not to give up and that I hadn't really tried everything. I am proud to say that Bobbie even eventually enjoyed eating greens, carrots, radishes and a few kinds of fruit.

In middle age, Bobbie's hormones went crazy and he spent a lot of time "nesting" at the bottom of his cage (male cockatiels build nests and are excellent. attentive fathers) and became a feather picker. He picked his legs, chest and under his wings. Nowadays there are a lot of options for bird owners to help their pets with feather plucking but back when Bobbie started there was only an "if there isn't something physically wrong, nothing can be done" attitude. Many vets told me this. Our current avian vet talked to me once about hormone therapies, but Bobbie was quite old and set in his ways by then so we left well enough alone.

Bobbie's looks from his feather picking never bothered me but what made me sad was that I became limited in where I could take him because of fear he would get chilled more easily than if he had all of his feathers. I also dreaded a sunburn! But before Bobbie sported a bare chest, he went everywhere with me. Last week, Gryphon shared tales of his younger days as a shoulder cat, well, Bobbie rode on the other shoulder. And before you picture me looking like Radagast from "The Hobbit," let me tell you that Bobbie was very well potty trained. I also had a pocketful of napkins, just in case.

Everyone always asks if a parrot talks and, no, Bobbie never talked, at least not in the conventional sense. However, I always understood him. He had a chirp that sounded like "tweet," one that sounded like "Bobbie Birdie" and an impeccable wolf whistle. We played all kinds of
Picture
Bobbie, May 2010
fun contact call games whistling at each other and finishing the others whistle. One of his favorite games as he got older was "troll." He'd hide under the couch and chase at any of us (dogs and cats included) that came near. He was very good at counting games too. In his old age, we teased him about becoming a grumpy old man. Like all seniors, he stuck tightly to his routine and liked staying close to his cage and play-tree.

At Bobbi's last vet visit, he checked out just fine, but I asked the dreaded question of what I should do when the morning came that I would uncover his cage and he didn't chirp at me. It is important to have a vet examine a passed-on birds body to determine cause of death, especially when another bird is in the house. But instead of him dying alone like I feared, Bobbie took his last breath in my hands. I sang "You are my sunshine" to Bobbie every morning when I uncovered his cage for almost two decades and I was fortunate enough to sing it to him as he closed his eyes forever.

It has been three years this month since Bobbie left us. He was the most special little guy I have and probably will ever know. He was a continent of personality in a tiny colorful package. He was kind, loved kids, and ever so gentle. He never bit me or anyone hard enough to break the skin- and for any non-bird people reading this, that is very, very rare. Bobbie was with me through every change that a young adult can go through and he always made me smile. I appreciated his usually chipper attitude as well as his occasional grumpy old man stay away from me attitude. We all deserve to make boundaries especially when we get older, right? My beloved Bobbie Birdie still reminds me of the healing power of a whistle. Sometimes, I imagine I hear him calling to me from another room. Thinking of my dear orange-cheeked friend occasionally makes me whistle and a whistle always makes me smile.
Picture
Bobbie, June 2010
15 Comments
Taryn link
8/15/2013 02:11:57 am

Such a sweet story. I love birds but can't imagine caring for one. They seem so fragile.

Growing up, I used to bring home little baby birds that had fallen out of the nest (bad, I know that now, of course!) and of course they usually died. One of those was a Grackle. He didn't die, but flourished in our care. We named him Jake. He had a cage, but was also allowed to fly around in the house. We would let him fly outside as well, but the wild birds hated him and so it wasn't safe. He learned to say several words quite clearly....Hi Jake, Where's Taryn?, and Thank you. He knew when to use Thank You, too! My dad liked to have a gin and tonic after work and when he mixed it up, he would pour a tiny bit in the tonic bottle's lid and give it to Jake, who drank it right down. I think he was an alcoholic bird! LOL! After his sip, he would sit on his swing and just sing and sing and sing! He was quite the bird!

Reply
Bethany
8/15/2013 03:29:41 am

Bobbie was a pretty tough guy and he never had any dopey accidents like Leo has... frequently. I have read about rescued Grackles making wonderful pets. How fun. There's a cardi here who would have enjoyed sharing booze with Jake!

Reply
Katherine
8/15/2013 03:09:20 am

What a wonderful post to read and what a beautiful bond the two of you had.

Reply
Bethany
8/15/2013 03:32:28 am

Thank you, Katherine. It was hard to write but nice reminiscing at the same time. I removed the "I am sobbing as I type" from the last paragraph because as I got to the end and whistled, I was smiling as I typed instead.

Reply
Molly The Wally link
8/15/2013 03:16:21 am

Sweet Bobbie. We forget how long they live and how much part of your life they become. A true precious friendship. Have a tremendous Thursday.
Best wishes Molly

Reply
Bethany
8/15/2013 03:34:40 am

Thanks so much, Molly. It's true... at the time he passed he had been with me for more than half of my life and all of my adult life (I was a teenager living with my mother when I got him.) What wonderful memories!

Reply
Reilly & Denny link
8/15/2013 03:23:47 am

It seems to be a very common thing for Aussie birds to feather pluck. For many years I worked for a Wild Life Rescue Service back home in Australia and the cockatoos especially we often found missing feathers - thankfully we had a dedicated bunch of knitting ladies who use to make us wonderful little sweaters to keep them warm

Reply
Bethany
8/15/2013 04:01:50 am

Awww!! Since I have always believed I will one day adopt a rescue parrot and I'd be fine with a feather picker (which are sadly some of the last birds to get adopted) I now know I can ask my expert knitter mother to make a wardrobe! Yay!

Reply
Jackie Bouchard link
8/15/2013 03:47:26 am

Awww, what a sweet story. What a long, wonderful life he had! Love the games. Troll. How cute! Gosh, I never thought about having a bird, but now I might have to consider one!

Reply
Bethany
8/15/2013 04:10:17 am

A couple of the best parrot rescues in the country are in your area, Jackie: http://peac.org/ & http://www.parrotsociety.org/ and I just found this one too http://www.sdbirdrescue.com/ They have classes. I may come your way and take one!

Reply
Ann Staub link
8/15/2013 05:51:16 am

Aw what a sweet story! Glad you were persistent and changed his diet. I'm sure that helped him live longer. We had gone so far as to keep birds at our clinic for a month or longer only giving them pellets to eat and tube-feeding them when they wouldn't eat them. We did this until they were eating on their own.

The main bird doctor I worked with always used to tell people "If I had a cure for feather picking, I'd be rich." It sure is something that's hard to change.

Bobbie sounds like he was an awesome dude!

Reply
Bethany
8/15/2013 06:27:16 am

Thanks, Ann. Sounds like you had sort of a methadone clinic for seed addicts! I so am glad Leo has never touched the stuff. I loved to see Bobbie get "green beak" from digging into his clumps of spinach. Maybe he picked his feathers to show off his Popeye like leg muscles and his full green crop?

Reply
Kuruk link
8/15/2013 08:10:08 am

What a sweet story and wonderful bird! Woooowooooo, Ku

Reply
Roxy the traveling dog link
8/15/2013 09:53:12 am

What a sweet bird he must have been. I had a cockatiel many years ago and he was a joy to be around.

Reply
Jan K link
8/16/2013 11:06:36 pm

What a wonderful story. It sounds like you and Bobbie had a special relationship and you always did what was best for him. It seems so sweet that you always took him everywhere with you when you could. It's not like we see people with birds very often out and about so that is really cool.

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