African Grey Parrot Bird Species
Our new African Grey Parrot Bird Species African Grey Congo Parrot and Timneh Parrot, Pickles, has just settled in his new cage in our living room. He went in willingly enough and I quickly closed the cage door and fell in a heap on the couch. I lay there staring at him, and he at me. Silence, while we each pondered our new living situations.
I had contacted some parrot owners Thomas & Sylvia who had alone African Grey parrot, one in a clutch and three months old. Knowing Pickles, having lived with and being possessed by him for eight years, I now suspect he killed and ate his siblings. All attention, at all times, must be solely directed toward him. Having siblings would only cramp his style.
African Parrot Bird Species
My husband Neil and I live in the interior of British Columbia, Canada. Thomas and Sylvia live on Vancouver Island. No quick trip. 4 hours drive to the ferry, a couple of hours early to ensure passage and a two-hour ferry ride. My mother, Zoe, lives on the coast so I over-nighted with her and she accompanied me on the ocean voyage. Mom didn’t say much when I told her I was getting a parrot but I don’t think she understood the attraction. Thomas and Sylvia met us on the other side, at the ferry terminal.
It was very much like a drug deal, or even kidnapping, as we were ushered from the arrival area and hustled into the side doors of a van. They looked nice enough, but they always say that during a television interview about the neighbor who was just arrested for murdering, dismembering and burying a body in his back yard. Once in the van, the exchange began.
Pickles, who had not been named yet, was removed from a small cage. He ‘stepped up’ readily and after admiring him briefly, he was handed off to me. I had to impress these people for the deal to be approved so I swallowed my fear of strong beaks and reached for him.
I had owned budgies and cockatiels and was under the impression that you put your finger firmly on the bottom of the chest to coerce a bird to step up. In all my parrot research since then, I have discovered that’s wrong, not to mention annoying for the bird. They must have thought I was nuts but everything went smoothly as I chatted with Pickles, fed him some mash, wiped his beak and even got some kisses. Having retained my lips, I was thrilled with my little package. A rolled-up wad of cash was exchanged and mom and I boarded the return ferry.
Pickles had been inserted in a plastic dog kennel with built-in perch and covered up. I had been warned that fumes from the car deck could be toxic to Pickles so he was smuggled to the upper decks. I didn’t do a very good smuggling job since I couldn’t resist lifting the blanket to interact with Pickles—a lot. Mom was taking a shine to him too, lifting the blanket often to chat with him.
He attracted much attention from other ferry passengers and he was pretty cool with that. He mostly cooed, chirped and whistled with the odd grating little screech sound, which over the next couple of days, I learned did not reflect a happy mood. I overnighted at moms again and some other family members came to see the parrot. Pickles was enjoying the attention and all the food treats but soon air enjoying the attention and all the food treats but soon tireded.
By now, he had grown to resent his small accommodations so getting him in the kennel became more and more difficult. He’d just latch on to my finger and refuse to step down on the perch. I finally got him bedded and covered for the night then we arose early to beat the heat for the four-hour drive home. Pickles had had enough driving. Very quickly, he latched himself to the holes in the sides of the kennel with his beak and talons and began his insistent little screech. I felt bad but my God! How long can one endure that sound? Pickles was irritated, I was getting cranky as hell and the second-guessing