Iāll admit that most of my days are fairly busy with work, kids and anything else that tends to fall in between those areas. The last 2 days were no exception. In fact, to say it was complete chaos would be a gross understatement. Iāve killed more brain cells than I could technically afford to lose. Another day like this and Iāll be authentically challenged in the mental department.
The sudden and unplanned addition of another bird to my household brought forth a menagerie of familiar tasks. Tasks that I vividly recall from my rein in rescue. Feeling rather guilty for forcing my rescued Amazon to spend the night in a travel cage, I invested most of the day scrubbing every crevice of his new cage on the back patio. I initially thought the cage was tan. Turns out itās actually white. I went through all 5 stages of cleaning and disinfecting a foreign cage, scrubbing until my hands came out raw, dry and slightly lighter skin tone than I started with. Eventually I was satisfied any living organism on the surface was, in fact, dead and then dried it with an air compressor. The whole process took 4 hours and then I had to drop the little green demon off at the vet while I went in search of food bowls to fit this cage. (no luck there so far. Remind me to check on Amazon.com)
Meanwhile, Blue had a to sacrifice my attention for most of the day. More guilt. Luckily, she has a profound case of ADHD and in between screams, found something to entertain herself with.
Now Iāve never considered if animals are affected by some of the same medical conditions and neurological disorders as humans, but the more I interact with Blue, the more Iām convinced that birds, can in fact, suffer from an avian form of Torrets Syndrome. Such a conclusion is evidenced by the occasional, unsolicited outburst from across the room. No activity had taken place. No one knocked on the door. Just a single, random scream that comes out of no where, and then, just like that, she goes back to doing whatever it was that held her attention prior. Usually, if she gets too disruptive, Iāll quiet her down by telling her āQuit that screaming!ā No. It doesnāt work, but the fact that I tried does make me feel slightly better.
She screamsā¦ the Amazon screamsā¦ the voices in my head are starting to feel that twinge of competition. Since the cage is officially clean, I figure Iāll bring it inside to work on the repairs and setting it up. Perhaps thatāll settle them down. Maybe if she sees me sheāll stop all that racket.
No. No, actually, that didnāt work. I was in the room for 5 minutes listening to sounds that resembled something more along the lines of a pterodactyl that accidentally bred with an elephant. My eyes were jumping, my skin started to vibrate, creating more fine lines and wrinkles and when I walked up to Blueās cage to ask her to quiet down, she screamed in my face. Seriouslyā¦ screamed. In. My. Face. So loud, in fact, that I felt my hair blow off my shoulders. For a brief moment in time, I was a cartoon. I could see sound and taste colors. I was on the edge of insanity.
iPodā¦. Whereās my #@$^%! IPOD!?
Breathe Ginaā¦ Breathe.
I finished putting the cage together at about the same time the ringing in my ears stopped. Now to get the Amazon out of the travel cage and into the big one. This ought to be fun.
I open the cage door. Heās pissed. Iām not talking āI want to kick your assā pissed. Iām talking āI want to shred your entire body to pieces, put you in a sandwich baggie and drop you off the coast of Argentinaā type pissed. To say the least, you get the message. He was quite serious. I struggle with how Iām going to get such a large bird out of the tiny doorway without coming out on the other end looking like someone ran over me with a riding mower. A stick. Maybe heās stick trained?
I get a stick. Heās now become the meanest raptor Iāve ever met. Iād forgotten how funny a growl from an Amazon sounds. Itās a big, tough sound coming out of a tiny little body. I laughed. Ok. I probably shouldnāt have laughed directly at him, but I did. And now he wants to eat me. Great. Amazon is now a falcon.
He escapes the cage. Crap! Thatās exactly the opposite of what I planned to have happen and foolish me didnāt have a towel handy to grab him. I run upstairs to fetch one and come back to find him on the floor about to climb up Blueās cage. Uhā¦ not good. Not good at all. Sheās pissed. Heās pissed. Weāre all pissed.
Unamused Gina is unamused.
I throw the towel on him and grab hold for dear life. Amazon/raptor has taken to doing his finest snapping turtle impression. He was quite good. I toss him in the cage, close the door and pray that he doesnāt figure out the latch. Heās currently sitting there holding a voodoo doll that has a short stature, long dark hair and distinctive bite marks on both arms. Waitā¦ that closely resembles me!
I settle everyone down, replenish a few toys in Blueās cage and begin the long process of cleaning up the mess Iād made. Eventually I take to checking emails and scanning the internet in search of entertainment. Blue is quietly sitting on her perch in her cage. The little green demon giving me such a death stare that the hair on my arms not only stood up, but tried to braid itself to form a barrier of protection.
Somethingās wrong. I can feel it. All of my spidey senses tingle telling me that the days drama isnāt over yet. I look up from my laptop to see Blue quietly snacking on her perch. Now this wouldnāt be a problem if she wasnāt standing on it or if she were chewing on an end that wasnāt attached to the cage. But common sense is benign here and logic is just a fantasy. I watch for a few minutes and eventually decide to save her from her own demise. āStop chewing on your perch, Blue.ā
I was too late. Sheād chewed through enough that it gave way and both, bird and perch, hit the floor of the cage. She sat there for a minute, looking up in confusion to where the perch used to be and then back to whatās left of the wood, completely unable to process what just happened.
I'm not sure which one of us needs therapy...
The sudden and unplanned addition of another bird to my household brought forth a menagerie of familiar tasks. Tasks that I vividly recall from my rein in rescue. Feeling rather guilty for forcing my rescued Amazon to spend the night in a travel cage, I invested most of the day scrubbing every crevice of his new cage on the back patio. I initially thought the cage was tan. Turns out itās actually white. I went through all 5 stages of cleaning and disinfecting a foreign cage, scrubbing until my hands came out raw, dry and slightly lighter skin tone than I started with. Eventually I was satisfied any living organism on the surface was, in fact, dead and then dried it with an air compressor. The whole process took 4 hours and then I had to drop the little green demon off at the vet while I went in search of food bowls to fit this cage. (no luck there so far. Remind me to check on Amazon.com)
Meanwhile, Blue had a to sacrifice my attention for most of the day. More guilt. Luckily, she has a profound case of ADHD and in between screams, found something to entertain herself with.
Now Iāve never considered if animals are affected by some of the same medical conditions and neurological disorders as humans, but the more I interact with Blue, the more Iām convinced that birds, can in fact, suffer from an avian form of Torrets Syndrome. Such a conclusion is evidenced by the occasional, unsolicited outburst from across the room. No activity had taken place. No one knocked on the door. Just a single, random scream that comes out of no where, and then, just like that, she goes back to doing whatever it was that held her attention prior. Usually, if she gets too disruptive, Iāll quiet her down by telling her āQuit that screaming!ā No. It doesnāt work, but the fact that I tried does make me feel slightly better.
She screamsā¦ the Amazon screamsā¦ the voices in my head are starting to feel that twinge of competition. Since the cage is officially clean, I figure Iāll bring it inside to work on the repairs and setting it up. Perhaps thatāll settle them down. Maybe if she sees me sheāll stop all that racket.
No. No, actually, that didnāt work. I was in the room for 5 minutes listening to sounds that resembled something more along the lines of a pterodactyl that accidentally bred with an elephant. My eyes were jumping, my skin started to vibrate, creating more fine lines and wrinkles and when I walked up to Blueās cage to ask her to quiet down, she screamed in my face. Seriouslyā¦ screamed. In. My. Face. So loud, in fact, that I felt my hair blow off my shoulders. For a brief moment in time, I was a cartoon. I could see sound and taste colors. I was on the edge of insanity.
iPodā¦. Whereās my #@$^%! IPOD!?
Breathe Ginaā¦ Breathe.
I finished putting the cage together at about the same time the ringing in my ears stopped. Now to get the Amazon out of the travel cage and into the big one. This ought to be fun.
I open the cage door. Heās pissed. Iām not talking āI want to kick your assā pissed. Iām talking āI want to shred your entire body to pieces, put you in a sandwich baggie and drop you off the coast of Argentinaā type pissed. To say the least, you get the message. He was quite serious. I struggle with how Iām going to get such a large bird out of the tiny doorway without coming out on the other end looking like someone ran over me with a riding mower. A stick. Maybe heās stick trained?
I get a stick. Heās now become the meanest raptor Iāve ever met. Iād forgotten how funny a growl from an Amazon sounds. Itās a big, tough sound coming out of a tiny little body. I laughed. Ok. I probably shouldnāt have laughed directly at him, but I did. And now he wants to eat me. Great. Amazon is now a falcon.
He escapes the cage. Crap! Thatās exactly the opposite of what I planned to have happen and foolish me didnāt have a towel handy to grab him. I run upstairs to fetch one and come back to find him on the floor about to climb up Blueās cage. Uhā¦ not good. Not good at all. Sheās pissed. Heās pissed. Weāre all pissed.
Unamused Gina is unamused.
I throw the towel on him and grab hold for dear life. Amazon/raptor has taken to doing his finest snapping turtle impression. He was quite good. I toss him in the cage, close the door and pray that he doesnāt figure out the latch. Heās currently sitting there holding a voodoo doll that has a short stature, long dark hair and distinctive bite marks on both arms. Waitā¦ that closely resembles me!
I settle everyone down, replenish a few toys in Blueās cage and begin the long process of cleaning up the mess Iād made. Eventually I take to checking emails and scanning the internet in search of entertainment. Blue is quietly sitting on her perch in her cage. The little green demon giving me such a death stare that the hair on my arms not only stood up, but tried to braid itself to form a barrier of protection.
Somethingās wrong. I can feel it. All of my spidey senses tingle telling me that the days drama isnāt over yet. I look up from my laptop to see Blue quietly snacking on her perch. Now this wouldnāt be a problem if she wasnāt standing on it or if she were chewing on an end that wasnāt attached to the cage. But common sense is benign here and logic is just a fantasy. I watch for a few minutes and eventually decide to save her from her own demise. āStop chewing on your perch, Blue.ā
I was too late. Sheād chewed through enough that it gave way and both, bird and perch, hit the floor of the cage. She sat there for a minute, looking up in confusion to where the perch used to be and then back to whatās left of the wood, completely unable to process what just happened.
I'm not sure which one of us needs therapy...
what a brilliant little story, i'm sat here feeling rather rough at 5am, but this made me feel lots better!
