I have held off as long as I could, but I am giving this post over entirely to my double yellow headed Amazon parrot, Maynard. He totally entertains me, and other people have enjoyed his antics too. After all, the universe does revolve around him.
Lately his thing has been to play with two toys at once. Friends have answered my call and sent button front shirts so that I can cut the button strip off and let Maynard chew the buttons off. I tied a strip to the outside of his cage, and he pulled it inside. Then he picked up one of the red jar lids he loves, and put the cloth over the lid. He chews on that for hours at a time. (Note: for safety reasons, the fabric is not left on his cage unless someone is present to supervise his playtime.)
It doesn’t stop there, he will combine any toy with any other toy. His bell with a cardboard box, his foot toys with a plastic cup, and so on. He certainly never gets bored.
I know Maynard is smart enough to recognize the signs if I am getting ready to leave the house. He starts saying, “Goodbye” at a normal speaking level. If I answer with “Goodbye,” he starts to scream. So I can’t say it unless I am almost out the door. He stops screaming in a few minutes after I leave the house.
My son has been living here for almost two months. Maynard still thinks he’s a dangerous evil predator who will kill us all in our sleep. And if Alain leaves and Maynard doesn’t see, there’s no stopping the alarm. Okay, maybe that’s not as entertaining as some of the other things he does.
Maynard has stopped to listen to the chimes of our clock, and then tried to say “Hello” modulated like the melody it plays before striking the hour. He also doesn’t like the new cat that hangs around our house. He will sound that alarm for hours, too.
I moved furniture around in the living room, and now the ottomans in front of our two chairs are not next to each other. Maynard can climb up on one but not the other, and in the past would just walk over to the one where I was. Now, he walks over to look at the table between the chairs, and acts like it’s going to try to kill him. Then he goes back to the ottoman, crosses on the coffee table, and comes up to see me. He also has let me put my foot down in front of him, and steps on it, letting me raise him to the ottoman.
He’s trained me to know that his very desperate scream means he wants clean water, or fresh food, or whatever I am eating. I know I really should not reward him for screaming. But when one has a limited means of communication, others need to pay attention. And he stops screaming once I have divined his need and fulfilled it. That’s my story and I am sticking to it.
Thanks for reading, I’ll be back on Thursday.