Gus had adventures for New Year's Eve. First, a car trip in his travel crate to my sister's house, where we had a delayed Christmas get-together. We had a se one cage there, and she will parrot-sit now and then so they needed to meet. After the noontime party, the better half and I went in town and spent the night with a friend. We planned to get back early Sunday to have more time introducing sis to Gus, because he's much larger than the Amazon she used to keep for us and she was a bit nervous about the beak. But we had no time to work with the two of them.
She had been talking to Gus in his cage, and he was chirping ...Hi?...we aren't sure...and holding up one foot. She knows his prison cage history and couldn't stand it, so she opened the door and he stepped right up. He ran up to the shoulder, she worked out how to get him back on the cage, then he would hold up a foot and she would relent and pick him up. At one point he sat on the cage with his back to her...she touched his tail feathers, he didn't seem to mind, she touched his back feathers, he didn't seem to mind, she touched the back of his neck, he scratched his head and fluffed his feathers, she took a chance and scritched his head, he stretched back and let her rub his nostrils. By the time we arrived, they already were friends. The three humans took turns holding out arms while Gus climbed from on to another, happy to have the band back together.
It's not a very exciting story, I know. But I loved it that my sister felt so strongly about his mental state that she was willing to risk that big beak to take him out of his cage, and he was gentle and trusting enough to get a complete stranger to scratch his head. She didn't know the first thing about macaws, and he didn't know here from Eve, yet they found an understanding. Gus may puke a lot and like my husband best, and bite chunks out of the log walls, but he sure is a gentle, sweet little bird.
