I recently acquired a parrot. I have named him Pippin.
He's a Conure, a small parrot about two times the size of a sparrow. He has a green body with a light grey chest marked by dark grey horizontal stripes. He has a long red tail and an orange belly. Although his wings are green there's a splash of blue under them. Here he is sitting on the top of my iPad:
He's only eight weeks old so he's still a baby. He won't reach maturity for another year or so. But he's completely weaned—he eats his bird seed eagerly and his fresh vegetables somewhat less enthusiastically (in that respect he takes after me).
I'm teaching him how to jump up on my finger when I say, "Come on." I also use the same expressions when I speak to him at specific events, for example I'll say, "Hello" whenever I have been away and see him again. My expectation is that he will learn how to say simple things as he becomes an adult. Conures don't have a big vocabulary, unlike an African Grey or double-headed Amazon parrot, but they can learn simple things. At this pint in his life he simply makes little peeps and, when he's pissed off or really wants to get my attention, a loud squawking noise. Fortunately the latter is not so bad that it disturbs the neighbors. But his ability to speak is less interesting to me than his companionship.
He has a large white cage, about a foot and a half square with three perches in it and several toys hanging from the ceiling and the door. I have placed a radio by it that is constantly running during the day so that he isn't sitting in dead silence when I am away. I also set up a bright "daylight" lamp nearby that shines into his cage, which is set up in the only place available for it in the dark end of my apartment. He quickly acclimated to it when I bought him home about two weeks ago in late April. It's May tenth now and I have had him for two weeks. was so afraid that he would be afraid of his cage, having come home from on with another Conure in it which was much smaller. The specialty bird store I bought him from was cacophonous with the noise of about fifty parrots. My environment is much quieter. It's only him and me here.
I was so frightened that I would not know how to deal with him. It's been almost ten years since I last owned a parrot. I had to give her up when I had my major bipolar episode because I knew, somewhere in the back of my deluded mind, that I could not care for her in the way that she deserved. It broke my heart to lose her. I think that the loss of her, the loss of my wife and my bipolar illness, kept me from getting another parrot (or for that matter, another pet.) But despite my fears my knowledge about parrots and familiarity with them is all coming back to me as I sit here writing while Pippin climbs all over me.
Now I have responsibility and companionship. I have to uncover Pippin's cage at 8:00AM every morning so that I can clean his dishes and give him fresh food. I need to socialize with him—I cannot simply leave him in his cage all by his lonesome. I take him out and hold him and play with him. He rides around on my shoulder in the apartment. We eat together. His cage is at the end of the dining room table. I sit next to him where his seed dish is set up and eat my food while he eats his. I put him away when I go out for a cigarette because I only smoke on my balcony. I don't want him to accidentally find his way outdoors and fly away. Then I take him out again. Finally, after a day of reading the news, watching television and in general leading my life with him I put him to bed at 8:00PM. He needs between ten and twelve hours of sleep. He really hates going to bed. He squawks and throws a fit when it's nighty night time.
Yaffa is so excited about me getting a pet which is something I had talked about for a while. I did not want a cat—I am allergic to them. A dog seemed like too much responsibility. I did not want to have to get up early every morning to walk it and out everyday to do the same. A dog would have been nice because they are such great companions. But I remembered that I am very familiar with parrots and although they require a lot of attention and patience they are relatively simple to care for. I began to yearn for one and when I got my unexpectedly large tax refund I decided to make the plunge. Yaffa was so helpful, taking me out to the bird store to visit and hold my baby conure while he was being weaned. Bird toys are expensive so Yaffa took me to the dollar store to buy arts and crafts supplies with which we made lots of toys ourselves. She beams with happiness when she sees me with Pippin.
It's a strange thing to share my hermit lifestyle with another being. I am so used to living in myself. Listening to my own thoughts all the time with nothing to fill the empty places in my life. I have had no responsibility for anything or anyone besides myself. The loneliness was unbearable at times and I found myself drawing the curtains to keep the world out. I was beginning to suffer from severe depressions (I titrated up my Lamictal prescription from 200mg a day to 300mg a day to combat them.) I was so lonely. I have lived this way for seven years. I would like to say that I had settled into that lifestyle having long ago given up hope on ever having human companionship outside of that I have Yaffa. All of this has changed now.
I need to refrain from overloading my blog with stories about Pippin and every little step he makes. I do not want this to become my personal facebook where all of my friends are always posting pictures of their children and pets. So I'll let this be (until I am compelled to do otherwise!)
He's a Conure, a small parrot about two times the size of a sparrow. He has a green body with a light grey chest marked by dark grey horizontal stripes. He has a long red tail and an orange belly. Although his wings are green there's a splash of blue under them. Here he is sitting on the top of my iPad:
 |
| Pippin |
He's only eight weeks old so he's still a baby. He won't reach maturity for another year or so. But he's completely weaned—he eats his bird seed eagerly and his fresh vegetables somewhat less enthusiastically (in that respect he takes after me).
I'm teaching him how to jump up on my finger when I say, "Come on." I also use the same expressions when I speak to him at specific events, for example I'll say, "Hello" whenever I have been away and see him again. My expectation is that he will learn how to say simple things as he becomes an adult. Conures don't have a big vocabulary, unlike an African Grey or double-headed Amazon parrot, but they can learn simple things. At this pint in his life he simply makes little peeps and, when he's pissed off or really wants to get my attention, a loud squawking noise. Fortunately the latter is not so bad that it disturbs the neighbors. But his ability to speak is less interesting to me than his companionship.
He has a large white cage, about a foot and a half square with three perches in it and several toys hanging from the ceiling and the door. I have placed a radio by it that is constantly running during the day so that he isn't sitting in dead silence when I am away. I also set up a bright "daylight" lamp nearby that shines into his cage, which is set up in the only place available for it in the dark end of my apartment. He quickly acclimated to it when I bought him home about two weeks ago in late April. It's May tenth now and I have had him for two weeks. was so afraid that he would be afraid of his cage, having come home from on with another Conure in it which was much smaller. The specialty bird store I bought him from was cacophonous with the noise of about fifty parrots. My environment is much quieter. It's only him and me here.
I was so frightened that I would not know how to deal with him. It's been almost ten years since I last owned a parrot. I had to give her up when I had my major bipolar episode because I knew, somewhere in the back of my deluded mind, that I could not care for her in the way that she deserved. It broke my heart to lose her. I think that the loss of her, the loss of my wife and my bipolar illness, kept me from getting another parrot (or for that matter, another pet.) But despite my fears my knowledge about parrots and familiarity with them is all coming back to me as I sit here writing while Pippin climbs all over me.
Now I have responsibility and companionship. I have to uncover Pippin's cage at 8:00AM every morning so that I can clean his dishes and give him fresh food. I need to socialize with him—I cannot simply leave him in his cage all by his lonesome. I take him out and hold him and play with him. He rides around on my shoulder in the apartment. We eat together. His cage is at the end of the dining room table. I sit next to him where his seed dish is set up and eat my food while he eats his. I put him away when I go out for a cigarette because I only smoke on my balcony. I don't want him to accidentally find his way outdoors and fly away. Then I take him out again. Finally, after a day of reading the news, watching television and in general leading my life with him I put him to bed at 8:00PM. He needs between ten and twelve hours of sleep. He really hates going to bed. He squawks and throws a fit when it's nighty night time.
Yaffa is so excited about me getting a pet which is something I had talked about for a while. I did not want a cat—I am allergic to them. A dog seemed like too much responsibility. I did not want to have to get up early every morning to walk it and out everyday to do the same. A dog would have been nice because they are such great companions. But I remembered that I am very familiar with parrots and although they require a lot of attention and patience they are relatively simple to care for. I began to yearn for one and when I got my unexpectedly large tax refund I decided to make the plunge. Yaffa was so helpful, taking me out to the bird store to visit and hold my baby conure while he was being weaned. Bird toys are expensive so Yaffa took me to the dollar store to buy arts and crafts supplies with which we made lots of toys ourselves. She beams with happiness when she sees me with Pippin.
It's a strange thing to share my hermit lifestyle with another being. I am so used to living in myself. Listening to my own thoughts all the time with nothing to fill the empty places in my life. I have had no responsibility for anything or anyone besides myself. The loneliness was unbearable at times and I found myself drawing the curtains to keep the world out. I was beginning to suffer from severe depressions (I titrated up my Lamictal prescription from 200mg a day to 300mg a day to combat them.) I was so lonely. I have lived this way for seven years. I would like to say that I had settled into that lifestyle having long ago given up hope on ever having human companionship outside of that I have Yaffa. All of this has changed now.
I need to refrain from overloading my blog with stories about Pippin and every little step he makes. I do not want this to become my personal facebook where all of my friends are always posting pictures of their children and pets. So I'll let this be (until I am compelled to do otherwise!)
Comments
Post a Comment