“One time, mom got mad at dad and told him he was about to become 'that funny smell coming from the attic'. I was kinda worried about him but then I thought - well, at least he would cover up that funny smell coming from the basement.”
“I court my daddy's hand - I talk to it, kiss it, offer regurgitated food, dance for it - and for all my wooing, it rejects me. I guess I’m not good enough for it. Maybe I’m from the wrong side of the tracks.”
“I got regurge all over the back of daddy's hand and he tried to wipe it on mommy. I thought he'd appreciate it and if I'd known he was a regifter, I would have eaten it myself.”
“One day, me & mom & dad will be dead and gone and people will look at all the nice pictures we left behind and never once suspect the insanity that went on our house.”
“ooooo, there was a bag full of stuff under the TV and I was determined to see what was in it. The TV's next to my cage and I kept climbing down to investigate but Daddy kept yelling at me to get back up - ruining everything. But eventually, he left the room and I was able to get down and drag the bag and all the goodies all across the livingroom floor. The bag was full of dirty, poopy talon toys cuz mom's basket was full. Dad caught me and said "Pickles! ewwwww!". I looked up and said 'mmmmmm!" There's nothing wrong with poopy toys - what's their problem?”
“Daddy says, when he met mommy he started noticing things that he never did before, like birds singing, dew glistening, butterflies, stoplights.”
When we first brought Pickles home at three months of age, he accepted us both equally. I explained in my first book how this all changed a year or so into our relationship when a man came into the shop and teased Pickles before I could react and after that, Pickles didn’t like any men – including Neil. We had read about parrots becoming ‘one person birds’ but refused to accept that. How could we have a normal family life if Pickles couldn’t get along with Neil. We worked with PBAS and it fixed the problem but rather than explaining it myself, I’m going to insert an article that Neil did for Good Bird Magazine a few years ago.
The Myth Of One Person Birds - by Neil Abbott
When we first welcomed Pickles into our home and lives he was loving and trusting. It was August 2002, Pickles was 3 months old and both Georgi and I were thrilled with the way he responded to and accepted each of us. We owned and operated a fly shop at the time where he was quite at home interacting and socializing with customers. There was plenty of space behind the counter for Pickles and his stand.
That fall an incident happened in the shop. A large burly fellow had been coming in spending time at the counter thrilled with Pickles. Then one day, before we could react, this self-professed birdman went behind the counter, had Pickles, and was teasing him by grabbing at his beak. Pickles was running up his arm screaming and biting while the guy continued trying to grab at his beak. The episode only went on for seconds before Georgi was able to end it, however, since then Pickles exhibited a dislike and mistrust of men, including me.
In the beginning Georgi was the primary caregiver. She spent more time handling and playing games with Pickles than I did, yet, I was still able to care for, handle and interact with him. After the above incident he was withdrawn from me and often gave me nips as if disapproving of my interaction with him – not always – but there was definitely a marked change from his former trusting and cuddly nature with me.
In October I began working out of town, only returning 3 or 4 times a month for a night or two at a time. When I did return Pickles was genuinely thrilled to see me – going on about “daddys home, woo hoo!” – he wanted to be held, scratched or just sit with me. As the months went by – even though he still was thrilled to see me – he began biting me. I returned home full time the following April and throughout the summer the biting became more frequent and more severe. I was still handling Pickles a lot so not every opportunity led to biting. This was confusing to me since I couldn’t figure out what I was doing right when he didn’t bite or what I was doing wrong when he did.
During this time Georgi and Pickles had become fast friends. They played extensively and of course Georgi was rarely nipped and never hard. She tried to help me read Pickles, which I admit, I wasn’t doing a very good job of. She showed me how to talk to him when playing – telling him “gentle” and “good boy” – and being able to recognize when he was too excited or worked up for interaction. It’s hard to say how much headway was made other than I was attempting to change my behaviour. Although success was a long way off, the concept of changing my behaviour would be crucial to the eventual relationship Pickles and I would enjoy.
Again in October 2003 I would work out of town. I spent some time home during the summer of 2004 but was away again that August. Still Pickles was thrilled when I came home. Still Pickles was biting me. I wasn’t spending enough time with him to say I could read him or understand his body language. I might or might not get bit after setting him on a perch, offering him a scratch or handing him a snack. The bites were painful usually drawing blood. If I was home for a day or two it was unlikely I would escape without a wound or two or more.
Looking back, fear and uncertainty on my part had minimized contact between us. While I believe having a healthy relationship with me would enrich Pickles life he wasn’t living a deprived existence. He was enjoying a wonderful relationship with Georgi throughout this period as Georgi’s “Pickles Stories” would attest to.
Mid May 2005 I returned home for good. Pickles was now 3 years old and he had become a one person bird. I recalled an article I had read years ago. I don’t remember the magazine or the author but I’ll never forget the content concerning one person birds – specifically CAGs. She called it selfish and cruel. That birds should not be deprived of other humans in their flocks. That most parrots will out live their original owners and must be prepared to trust other humans. That if you have a one person bird you should look at what you are doing wrong and what your motivation is to cause the situation.
It was never our intention to make Pickles into a one person bird, however, circumstances had created the situation, and now with me home, Georgi and I were determined to make it right. It was about this time Georgi was involved with the BAS group over an unrelated behavioural issue. Through that experience we both gained a greater understanding of behaviour and positive reinforcement. We had never used discipline or punishment with Pickles but then we never fully utilized behaviour modification through positive reinforcement.
We developed a plan.
It was important that I would not replace Georgi. Enhancing my relationship with Pickles should not in any way diminish his relationship with her.
It was decided any contact I had with Pickles would be fun. Snacks, going for walks, bringing him to the dining room playstand on “party” nights. I would not handle him in situations that he may not view as absolutely positive such as putting him in his travel cage, putting him in his cage if we had to leave him alone or returning him to his cage on “party” nights. The idea was to reinforce that every interaction with me would lead to a reward. I would also become the primary caregiver. I would let him out in the morning, give him most of his meals, share bananas and clean his cage at night. He viewed me and my activities with curiosity at first yet as far as we could tell fully accepted my new role.
Even though I was handling Pickles more I was bleeding less. The only time I was getting bit was when we were playing. Georgi would coach me but I was still having a hard time reading him. I think part of it was getting past that just because he wanted to play didn’t mean he wouldn’t bite and just because he would turn his head to beak me didn’t mean he meant to bite. One night we were playing, he lowered his head for a scratch, I complied, as quick as he turned his head to my finger I pulled away but still got bit. Georgi asked me why I pulled away. Obviously because he meant to bite me I reasoned – didn’t the bite prove that? “No” she told me. “ When he’s in a mood like that there’s no way he meant to bite – it was you
pulling your hand away that caused it.” It took a conscious effort to leave my hand the next time the situation arose. To my surprise he gently held my forefinger in his beak as he attempted to regurgitate food for me. I had seen him do this with Georgi but it was a first with me.
I had thought that was the turning point but in fact it had been weeks since he had bit me without provocation. He had learned to read my body language before I could read his. This had only taken a matter of weeks and I found the more I trusted him the more he trusted me. When he started playing rough Georgi taught me how to calm him by gently speaking. Some games he couldn’t be trusted around your hands – change the game and he could. Another thing was to be positive and happy. He picked up on that. If I was excited so was he – that could be good or bad. I learned to make confident, deliberate movements around him and to never force the issue if he showed any reluctance.
At one point we were getting along so well it was next to impossible to have him step down off my hand. His favourite snacks are pine nuts which we give him for reward, treats or most times he asks “wanna snack”. We withheld them and only gave them to him for stepping down. If he asked for a snack I would have him step up, do a brief walkabout, then give him the pine nuts after stepping down. In less than a day Pickles was back to stepping up and stepping down on command.
Last summer, after playtime on the couch he was reluctant to go “home”, knowing it was time for “lights out”. We devised a game. His bowl of pine nuts would be hidden in a kitchen cupboard. Then we’d go off on a snack safari, looking through all the cupboards, Pickles would stretch and cock his neck to search each one, shouting “THERE’S the snacks!” when the bowl was found. Satisfied he had uncovered his snacks he happily went back to his cage for the night.
Learning to “read” Pickles took some time. Georgi taught me to pay attention to his posturing and to not “push it” when he was edgy. I found it helpful to watch the progression in his mood and actions and look for signs of his comfort, trust, fear and excitement levels.
It’s been over a year now since I’ve been bitten – except for the odd accidental nip. Georgi’s relationship is as strong as ever with Pickles. While I believe she is Pickles favourite there are activities and games he only enjoys with me as well as words, phrases, and songs I’ve taught him illustrating the enrichment that comes from not being a one person bird. Having a second caregiver and companion Pickles enjoys not only twice the contact but by being exposed to another personality he is both challenged and rewarded.
If I had to say there was one thing that made our relationship work it was coming to the realization that Pickles behaviour would never change until mine did. Having a plan kept things on track. Perhaps more than anything is the wealth of knowledge available. From the start we had used positive reinforcement with Pickles however without BAS and Good Bird we would have never fully realized our potential as Pickles companions.
I must say that I am extremely fortunate to be married to such a caring, thoughtful, intelligent man who is utterly devoted to Pickles, Neeka and myself. Also, there is no fighting in our life; we enjoy being together, spending all our time together, enjoy common interests and a relaxed, pleasant lifestyle. I believe it goes a long way in providing a stress free, and harmonious, life for all the critters we’ve lived with throughout the years. We are truly blessed.
I don’t know if Pickles has a ‘preferred’ person but I think that if he had to choose, it would be Neil. I’m very good with Pickles but Neil has far more patience. If I’m frustrated with Pickles, Pickles picks up on it and gets frustrated with me. Nothing ruffles Neil’s feathers so Pickles tends to be a little calmer with him.
Neil’s usually the first one up in the mornings and I will lay in bed, listening to the two of them interacting. At some point, either Neil or Pickles will decide it’s time for me to get up and one of them will start hollering “Caaaawfeeeee” which is my cue to get my ass out of bed. Or sometimes, they’ll try to sneak up on me by walking quietly down the hall but Pickles knows they’re going to wake up Mama and he can’t help letting out an excited little ‘chew’ which gives them away. Other times, they make it to the closed door and Pickles gets to knock. When I hear the ‘bang, bang’ I’ll tell them to come in and the moment the door opens, Pickles cries out “Good Morning!” It’s so adorable the way he says it and he’s so excited to see me – it’s a wonderful way to start the day. Especially when Pickles is offering “Do you want some coffee?” or “Do you want some breakfast?”
Neeka sleeps with me under the covers, perfectly content to sleep as long as I do but once Neil and Pickles show up, he’s all excited and the room is bursting with morning joy.
Chapter 11
Look Who’s Talking
“I speak in 3 voices - mom's, dad's and my own. Nobody knows who's talking to whom around here from another room. Yet, everybody answers to everybody. One day, I'm gonna call out "Hey, wanna fool around?" and see if anybody heads toward the bedroom.”
“If you are arguing with your mommy & losing, get really loud & drown her out. If that doesn't work, call her names. If that doesn't work, turn tail & run - cuz you're probably gonna pay for that.”
“They say you shouldn't fight a battle if you don't have anything to gain by winning. Just winning a battle of any kind, is gain enough for me. It's a battle of brains & I like to prove my little walnut sized brain is better than any big human brain. I think the winner should be able to eat the loser's brain. With ketchup.”
“This morning, nobody was around so I called out "Anybody home?" And mommy answered, "Nobody home but us mice!" I was surprised that mice could talk but at least I had company. I went looking for said mice but got distracted by a pop can.”
“I think a really cool thing for me to learn to say would be "I buried the bodies in the back yard". Then, one day, somebody would overhear me & think I was copying something mom&dad said so they'd call the cops on mom&dad and they'd dig up the yard. Which would be great cuz then they'd find all my toys that Neeka the dog has stolen and buried out there and I could have them back.”
“Mom says I ask too many questions. What's that supposed to mean? What's too many? Five? 100? 1000? Don't you think she should've told me ahead of time so I don't use them all up? Oh crap - now I’m 6 questions closer to the limit.”
“I was thinking of becoming a mime but then I thought no, cuz I like to talk too much. Plus, I thought, what if I suddenly had a heart attack? People would just watch me & while I’m dying on the floor they'd go - man, he's good.”
“Mom was trying to talk to me and I didn't feel like talking so I said "No speaka English" and she said "Yes you do - that's ALL you speak!". I said "No comprendo", she said "Yes you do" so I said "Ich verstehe nicht" then she asked what I wanted for lunch and I said "Potato please". "AHA!" she said. Foiled again.”
”I've been learning religion from mommy. It's very interesting. For instance, I didn't know that God's last name is Dammit. I learn something every day with her.”
“My mom and I argue over such stupid things but we always make up. Later, I go up to her and say - I'm glad we made up mom, I'm glad that you realized what a stupid thing you said. I don't know why we end up arguing all over again. She just can't let go.”
I don’t know what’s going on with that bird. I used to keep track of the words in his vocabulary and a couple of years ago, I had him at over 100 words and he learned more after that but I had stopped counting. Sometimes he would drop words and won’t say them again for a few months or years and some he has dropped completely for some reason. But, in the last few months, he has stopped saying many, many more of his words. Although he still picks up the odd words and phrases, he seems to be much more interested in sounds and has been picking them up rapidly.
Ever since we built the trout pond in our yard, we have been experiencing many new varieties of wild birds coming to drink or bathe and Pickles seems determined to copy every single one of them. Don’t get m
e wrong, it’s truly amazing and delightful to listen to – even all the different crow sounds – and it’s like having an aviary full of different species of birds, right in our own home.
Since I’ve been on FaceBook, I tend to watch all the videos that his ‘friends’ post of their own parrots and usually they are accompanied by that particular bird’s own unique chirps and sounds. More often than not, Pickles is imitating that bird by the time I finish watching the video and I’m sure the neighbors think we have several kinds of parrots living with us these days.
He picks up the silliest sounds. Sometimes I hear the ‘click clicks’ of Neeka running around and wonder what he’s up to, only to remember he’s sleeping under the couch blanket with me. He’ll do the sound of Neeka’s ball bouncing down the hallway; fooling me into thinking Neil is playing fetch with the dog. Sometimes Pickles is doing the dishes, stirring the coffee, dropping ice into a glass, turning off a lamp, opening the sliding door, sitting in the squeaky computer chair, shoveling the sidewalk, closing a window, running water or making the sound of the shower taps being turned on. We haven’t been on dial-up for years but he still fools me into thinking Neil’s connecting to the internet by doing the old sound of negotiating a connection to the computer.
Pickles loves, loves, loves sounds of any kind and he practices them all the livelong day. You know, it’s wonderful to have a talking bird but we’ve discovered that it’s not all that important to us for Pickles to be talking to us all the time. He still does – usually when it really counts to get his point across – but mostly, it’s other sounds coming from his beak. Maybe he’s decided he doesn’t need a whole ton of words to communicate with us. Maybe he’s getting Alzheimer’s and forgetting his words (not really). It doesn’t really matter though - if it’s not important to him, it’s not important to us either.
Pickles The Parrot Returns: My Continued Adventures with a Bird Brain Page 10