My first pair of zebra finches were my ideal for beautiful birds: the male was a normal gray, with a beautiful chestnut waist coat and bright orange cheeks; and the female was white and sweet. I called them Don Quixote and Dulcinea. As soon as they got a wicker nest, they went to town laying eggs, and in a couple of weeks, the eggs hatched, and Don Q changed into an overprotective killer, defending his territory.
Sadly, I could tell that Dulcie wasn’t doing well with her feathers being plucked and blood on her head; I took her out and kept her warm, but she didn’t make it. We had a particularly cold April that year, and the chicks did not survive because dad didn’t sit on the nest at night. He basically killed the female and all his chicks.
The woman who sold me the finches asked why I didn’t take the male out of the cage. It never occurred to me that if I left her alone in the cage, she would naturally care for the chicks. As I said, these were the first finches I ever had.
Over the years of keeping birds I have lost several hens when males have been aggressive or territorial. “Button” quail and coturnix quail especially create problems when a strange hen is introduced to an established group. My aviary has a large floor area and many places to run to and hide. I managed to safely introduce a new hen to a couple I had out there, a hen who was actually the daughter of the established female, but not related to the male; they made a good team and produced many chicks over their lifetimes.
When I tried to introduce a new hen to the Butters, my original coturnix quail, she was brutally killed in one day. I then learned that I needed to set up a smaller cage inside the larger cage and let everyone get used to each other. I believe I have mentioned before that when I had Buttermilk inside for a time, I was given a celedon coturnix, Quinn; they shared the bottom of Charlie the Indian Ringneck parakeet’s cage indoors. When I got a cage properly set up and moved Buttermilk out to it, Quinn called for her endlessly, so I quickly made the decision to put the two girls together in the “howdy” cage and that worked out well. After a couple of weeks, I opened the cage and let the quail move freely into it and around the bigger cage: they are a very happy quad.
Lovebirds are another species that can be vicious, but usually the hens are the ones that attack, or the mated pair. I don’t think this aspect is often covered in books about keeping lovies, but you do need to keep either a single bird and be its flock, or one pair in each cage. Budgies, commonly called parakeets, can also be vicious: I lost a hen and her chicks when another hen wanted to take over the nest box. While budgies do best in community flocks, keep a watch on them during the breeding season.
I’ve brought inside a couple of pairs of zebra finches to try to breed for certain colors or body types; one pair that I had produced some truly beautiful birds. I kept a chestnut flanked white (CFW) male in the hopes of getting a strain of that mutation going, and he and his hen were doing fine at first, but then she laid eggs in the nest. I noticed that she was plucked nearly bald and having trouble getting around. I removed her and put her in a small hospital cage, but she didn’t make it through the night. Now I need to find an older, plucky hen that might stand up to him and show him she’s the boss. It could happen.
Breeding any type of bird brings a variety of trouble with it. I’ve known breeders who had to pull chicks to hand feed when the hen abandoned the nest. I’ve known others who were lucky to have the dad step up and feed the chicks when the hen died. The joy of seeing the chicks turn into beautiful adults can make it all worth while.
Thanks for reading; I’ll be back next Sunday.
In Loco Parrotus 