Pickles The Parrot Returns: My Continued Adventures with a Bird Brain

by Abbott, Georgi

  Pickles discovered a great new game one-day. He was perched on the back of the rocking chair while I was tidying up and Neeka, not realizing that Pickles was there, jumped onto the seat cushion. It startled Pickles because the chair suddenly moved beneath him and he had to flap his wings to maintain his balance. The flapping alerted Neeka to the fact that Pickles was there so he immediately jumped down to the floor. Pickles realized that Neeka was causing the chair to give him a good ride and now that he was able to hold on properly, he decided he liked the rocking but the rocking stopped after a moment. He called Neeka, the way he usually does, by calling his name with a kissy sound and quick whistle. Neeka looked at me and I told him “Okay. Up.” So Neeka jumped back on the chair and made it rock. Then I called Neeka back down and Pickles called him back up. Pickles got to rock a few times before Neeka decided there was no fun in this for him and left the room.

  I discovered an amazing thing. Neeka’s eyes, like many small dogs, tend to get a little watery sometimes and the tears can form crusties below his eyes. My vet told me to wash the area and apply Vasoline every couple of days but I found that the Vasoline usually adheres a lot longer than that – up to a week sometimes – so tears don’t get a chance to crust up, they just kind of roll right off. Or, if they start to dry up, the Vasoline helps Neeka to clean it off easier when grooming.

  It’s difficult to have a small dog in Logan Lake in winter. We tend to get a fair amount of snow and it’s just too deep for the poor little thing to get around. Neil spends a lot of time shoveling trails around the yard so Neeka can get around to do his business.

  Neeka’s favorite fetch toy is a white plastic bone, about six inches long. When we’re sitting outside, around the pond, I’ll toss it in different directions around the yard but I get tired faster than he does so I’ll pretend to throw it one way and when he runs, I’ll toss it in the opposite direction. This will keep him busy for awhile as he runs through the entire trails system and checks every nook, cranny and shrub. It’s kind of cruel, but sometimes I throw it in a large shrub where he can’t easily find it and he’ll spend an hour searching for it. He has a great nose so I need to throw it downwind to buy more time.

  When I play fetch with Neeka in the house, down the hallway, there’s no carpeting so he ends up sliding the last foot or so to the bone or ball. When he’s fetching outside, sometimes he figures he’s still going to slide but what happens is that his front feet catch on the ground so his back end keeps going, sometimes flipping end-over-tea-kettle.

  I’m not sure if it was deliberate or just a coincidence but one time the bone landed in the pond and a couple of minutes later Neeka ran by the aviary looking for it. Pickles, who enjoys watching the fetch game, announced “Water”. Neeka just ran on by but on his next lap past Pickles, Pickles said it again. Neeka didn’t miss a beat as he changed direction and trotted to the pond and found it. Note to self; don’t teach Pickles the words tree, shrub, left and right.

  Neeka likes to fence play with a couple of dogs in the neighborhood and we sort of live on the edge of town so people aren’t all that concerned if a dog gets loose and it provides Neeka with some company now and then. His favorite playmate – a small terrier mix – disappeared last summer. It was just a matter of time because there are always coyotes around and this dog was always loose. Whenever we were in the house and I noticed the dog outside, Neeka would be sound asleep but as soon as I said, “There’s your friend”, Neeka was gone in a flash. I felt really bad when recently, I said to Neil “Remember how he’d jump up whenever we said ‘There’s your buddy’?” and Neeka leapt up, ready to bolt outside and I had to calm him down and convince him I said something that just sounded like that.

  Another dog came by once – he belonged to someone visiting a neighbor down the road - and the two of them had a great time running back and forth along the fence line. Eventually, a guy came looking for his dog and Neeka hid in the shrub beside the aviary and commenced barking. I gave him the command to stop – and he did – but Pickles immediately took up the cause as man and dog turned to walk away. The guy – the same guy who had to go looking for a dog that he had lost control of, and a dog that had no recall whatsoever – had the nerve to snidely remark over his shoulder “He listens well, eh?”

  “Not my dog” I snapped back at him but of course, he figured I was trying to say I was taking care of someone else’s dog, not that it was my parrot who was barking. Good thing though, because then he’d think I couldn’t even control a bird, let alone a dog. Damn that bird, always getting me into predicaments. Regardless, I never bothered to explain.

  I keep Neeka exercised in winter by throwing a ball from the couch at the far end of the livingroom, down the long hallway and into the bedroom. Well, most times we manage to get it down there but all too often, a bad throw sends it ricocheting off walls, furniture, appliances and even people. How we haven’t put it through the TV screen, I’ll never know, because it’s just to the side of the ball path. Pickles enjoys watching the game and will call Neeka back if Neeka gets sidetracked with the ball on the bed but he’ll only put up with so much ricocheting and loud bangs before he yells “Stop in NOW.”

  Neeka’s a great little dog, very easy to have around and a wonderful companion. It’s easy to take him places because of his size and he keeps me active by forcing me off my cottage cheese ass and off the computer for nice leisurely walks around the lake or trails. It’s especially nice when the weather’s good enough to take Pickles with us in his backpack. But I’ll talk about that later.

  I’m not really concerned about Pickles safety around Neeka and as I said, Neeka gives a wide berth to Pickles and is content to observe him from a safe distance. If Pickles tries to get close to him, Neeka moves away. We’ve all heard the stories like the cat and the crow who were best friends, the Great Dane who babysat a clutch of baby chickens or about dogs who nurse kittens. Neeka is like that; he’s gentle, non aggressive and has never shown the slightest interest in harming Pickles. Pickles has freedom from his cage all day long so obviously, there will be times when my back is turned or I’ve left the room momentarily and the two of them may be alone briefly. We are extremely confident that there would never be a problem but we are also hyper alert during those times for sounds or indications indicating otherwise.

  As many of you know, from my last book, I hate cooking or anything remotely wifely. However, I’ve always enjoyed cooking for my pets. I made kitty cookies when I had cats – God, I miss having cats – dog cookies for all my dogs and of course, all the cooking I do for Pickles. I always made meatloaves and froze large trays for my past dogs but stopped doing that when we got Neeka as I wanted to make sure he was getting a balance diet – feeding the meatloaf could upset that balance. Anyway, I’ll throw in a favorite dog cookie recipe here …

  1 ½ cups all-purpose flour

  ¾ cup oats

  ¼ cup wheat germ

  ¼ cup creamy peanut butter

  ¼ cup vegetable oil

  ¼ cup honey

  1 tsp baking powder

  1/2 cup of water

  Mix all ingredients well.

  Roll into any 1 ½ inch balls, place on an ungreased cookie sheet and flatten with a fork.

  Bake at 325F for 15 to 20 minutes, or until golden brown.

  Here’s a recipe for a dog shampoo. The smell of cider dissipates quickly on your dog.

  1 part dish soap

  1 part apple cider

  ¾ part water

  ¼ part glycerine

  I freeze the cookies in ziplock baggies and Neeka likes them frozen but they will also thaw quickly.

  Chapter 5

  Dirty Birdie

  “I decided to bite the bullet today and get a little wet in my water bowl. I'm pretty sure my feathers shrunk and now my feet look bigger.”

  “Mommy won't get naked in front of me anymore. Not cuz of modesty - like I care what she looks like and like I care if she diets or not to get rid of that cottage
cheese ass - but because I bit her nipple once when she was carrying me into the shower with her. I've never gone in the shower with her since. I don't think she takes them anymore.”

  “Sometimes I get a cute little bug in my water dish, like a Lady Bug, and I have to save it from drowning. I don't wanna pick it out with my beak cuz I might squarsh it, or maybe even swallow it by mistake. That's when it's handy to have tasty Cheerios around cuz it makes a great life preserver while providing a nice meal for the bug”

  “Mom put a bowl of water on the base of my playstand and put a bunch of my talon toys in the water. She figures it will entice me to go swimming or bathe or something but I just walk along the edge of the bowl, nab the toys and toss them to the ground. Then the dog grabs them and mom has to chase him to get them back and now she has to wash the dog germs off. Is it really worth it mom?”

  “I don't know why people have eyebrows. Maybe just to make them look angry or surprised. Birds aren't supposed to pluck their feathers, so why is it okay for people to pluck their brows? If I had eyebrows, I’d pluck one to look angry and the other to look surprised. Then people would think I’m surprised that I’m angry.”

  “Mom read that walnuts are good for stress and since I’ve been chewing a little too hard on my breast feathers lately, she decided to load me up on them. mmm. Sittin' here all mellow, listening to Pink Floyd, got the munchies, laughing at the wall. This is some good shit man.”

  “I’m gonna highlight some of my feathers. Cuz I think some of my feathers are more important than the others.”

  “Playing dead works well if there's a bear around but it's also very effective when you don't want to take a bath.”

  “I wouldn't admit that I was the one who stole that bag of chips. I told mom that I wouldn't talk to her on advice of council. She said "Ohhh, you'll talk to me all right" and I said "No speaka English". She left the room and I heard water running. I hope she's never heard of water boarding.”

  “Mommy went to a baby shower and said I couldn't go. That's okay cuz I don't like water or rain - so I certainly wouldn't like baby rain.”

  “Mom locks my cage door so I don't swing on it and chop my feet off if it closes on me. If I lost my feet, mom said she'd have to put me in a bowl of water to float around all day cuz I wouldn't be able to sit on my perches anymore. Yeah, you'd like that wouldn't ya mom?”

  Getting Pickles to bathe has been our biggest challenge. In my last book I touched on his recent feather plucking and what we were doing to stop it. We believed, at the time, that it had something to do with Neil working a lot and then when he was home, catering to Pickles’ when he wanted attention. Things got better for a while and his feathers were growing in nicely for a couple of months then suddenly he started picking at his chest again. It’s only his chest that he picks at and he has a small area that comes and goes with feathers. We’ve been trying some other things since then but we really feel that it’s because he never gets wet.

  I’m sure that some of you are thinking – My God, why don’t they just take him to the vet?! And you’re probably right but I’ll tell you why we’ve been putting it off. To begin with, the closest avian vet to our small town requires a trip of several hours and an overnight stay. Actually, one vet in Vancouver said that it might require several testings which they wouldn’t do all together, so that would mean staying more nights to wait for results and going for more tests if the first ones showed nothing. Time and expense are one thing but it’s also our commitment to taking the holistic approach which we don’t want to abandon quite yet because we see results and feel we just need to nail it down better.

  There is a ‘regular’ vet close by and we took Pickles there a couple of times early on – a vet who insisted he could vet Pickles because he’d owned an African Grey himself. The first time (and the reason I started buying the cement perches) I took Pickles for a nail clip. Pickles was wrapped in a towel while this guy took forever clipping each nail, just a little bit at a time. Pickles screamed the whole time and I was so worried he’d die of heart failure (I’d heard of this with African Greys at the vets) but it was my first trip to the vet with Pickles and I wasn’t sure what to expect.

  The second time I took him there, was for a wing clip. Both times, I refused to handle Pickles during the procedures because I had heard that Greys tend to hold you responsible and never forgive you, so I insisted that the nurse assist instead. Pickles wasn’t cooperating on the table and the vet was at a loss as to how to get at the wings without being bitten so he had his assistant get a towel. When she came back in the room, I was busy talking to the doctor and before I realized what was happening, she came at Pickles with a bright, multi-colored beach towel and sent Pickles screaming to the floor while she chased him and threw the towel at him. It all happened in an instant so by the time I realized what was happening, and just as I began to react, she already had him wrapped and ready for the doctor. (When Pickles was very young, we played with towels and I made sure he was comfortable with them for vetting purposes but I hadn’t thought to bring one of my own and Pickles was obviously afraid of this colorful one.) I was mortified but she already had control of him and I figured we’d just better get this over with. It was a struggle and Pickles screamed the whole time but the nurse managed to control him, bitching and complaining about Pickles the whole time. I wanted to deck her.

  When we got Pickles home, it wasn’t long before Pickles tried to fly and landed with a thud on the ceramic tile and broke the point of his beak clean off. Poor thing couldn’t eat anything but soft foods for days. Neil has since taken over the wing clipping and does a great job.

  I had already decided I would never return to this vet when I found out that yes, they had an African Grey but they kept him in the basement because the kids were bored of him and he was too noisy and messy. This was what gave him license to believe he knew everything there was to know about parrots. The nurse, after the last visit, even had the nerve to tell me “I don’t think you should bring him here anymore.” “Ya THINK?” I spat at her. That was the last I saw of either of them. I’d never take any animal there again, let alone a parrot.

  In the meantime, we know the plucking started around the same time that we stopped giving Pickles his Herbal Salad. We couldn’t find anybody who could ship it to Canada because of huge taxes or duty free problems and then, just recently, we found someone in Canada who could provide us with a similar product – a Twin Beaks Aviary’s Herb Salad distributor. Not long after we started incorporating it back into Pickles’ diet, feathers started growing in but a few weeks later, he started on them again. Result: It seems it has some affect but not the whole picture.

  (Now, just in case some of you might be thinking; maybe it’s that hemp they’re feeding him that’s causing the problem. Well, it’s not. The information above, explains that. It would be like saying; maybe it’s the bananas he eats. Healthy food and balanced diet should not be considered a problem. For the most part, Pickles enjoys a good diet but because of his dislike for so many fresh foods, there could be a bit of an imbalance there but that too, we are working on. Sure, there’s also a chance that something healthy is causing it and that would require testing to pin it down but, for now, we’re going to assume not.)

  We started giving him Sunshine Factor Palm Oil a few months ago because it’s part of their natural diet in the wild and because the palm oil properties would be beneficial to feathers and skin. Once again, it seemed to help to some extent but didn’t stop it completely. I know that it’s supposed to take several months for palm oil to really take effect on feathers and Pickles needs to molt all the old ones (which he hasn’t yet) to see how the new ones grow in. Result: It seemed to work better and faster than the Herb Salad but still not the desired results and we won’t know the true result under Pickles molts.

  Pickles has had a UV lamp above his favorite perch (on the outside of the cage, since he’s always out) almost since day one. Neil did a ton of research on natural light
ing and we bought, what we think, is the best set-up out there – the Ott-Lite full spectrum desk lamp, which can also be hung. It simulates natural sunlight, therefore providing him with a good source of vitamin D. These bulbs need to be changed after 10,000 hours, the equivalent of about three years, because they still give off good light but they stop giving off the full spectrum. Pickles originally started plucking at the same time that the bulb needed to be replaced. This was initially what we thought the problem to be and, upon changing bulbs, it seemed to help - but only briefly. Result: Lighting helped but still not the cure.

  Water. We’ve tried everything – showering with us, bathing bowls (including all the tricks such as warm water, hot water, ice cubes, floating toys, running the vacuum etc.), kitchen sink (bending over so he can run down our arms to bath or shower under the sink tap and most recently, a sink perch so that he can go in and out as he pleases and play on the counter in-between) and we’ve tried spraying him with a spray bottle. All of these things (except the spray bottle) work sometimes but he usually refuses to get wet more than 2 or 3 times a month and even then, he just basically flirts with the water and never gets much more than his head and feet damp.

  But Oh My God, put juice in his cage bowl and the guy goes nuts! After a sip or two, he fits himself right into the bowl, dances around and tries to flip the juice with his beak, all over his body. I’ve thought of filling the kitchen sink with grape juice, and I suspect he might actually soak himself, but then I’d have a sticky, grape encrusted bird. Not to mention, the mess I’d have throughout the entire kitchen.

  Pickles really likes the bird bath in his aviary – an actual shallow, wild-bird bath – and will spend a considerable amount of time wading in it and flicking his beak but manages never to get any on his body. I was working around the pond one day when I glanced over at him and couldn’t believe my eyes – he had climbed up a nearby branch that curved into the bird bath, got about two feet up then launched himself off the branch and landed with a belly flop in the water. He stood stone still and just as I was worrying that he may have hurt himself he fluffed up, stretched out his wings, shook his whole body in excitement, turned and scrambled right back up the branch to do it all over again! I think it was the wettest he’s ever been just from the belly flop splashes but alas, he has never repeated the performance since. This was in the fall so Pickles wasn’t out in the aviary much more and we’re hoping he’ll do it again this summer.