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Psycho, a quakers story.
So from time to time I ponder actually putting my evil little birds story down on my page. Here goes.
One particularly blustery day in mid March of 2001 a friend of my dads went to visit him at his car club. Papers where flying through the air and it was a failry cold dry day.
When Terry got to the door of the shop door a large gust of wind blew debris past him, and some bounce of the door and brushed by him as well. He got inside and turned into the shops center.
My dad looked up from his desk smiled and said, "Nice bird you have there"
"What are you talking about", asked Terry.
"The bird on your shoulder," said my dad while pointing to Terry's left side.
Terry turned his towards his shoulder and jumped in surprise. A small green bird flew into the rafters in a panic.
"Don't worry I'll help you catch it" says my dad as he grabbed a fishing net.
"It's not my damn bird, keep it"
For quite a while the little green terror had them dodging and sweating as they persued the thing through the large lofty room. The ceilings are around 20ft high, so catching the winged demon wasn't precisely easy.
Eventually the little thing tired and and was swept up in the net. My dad placed the green beast into a ferret/cat carrier as it was all he had available. Knowing that I had a way with critters my dad brought it to the house on crescent st.
I was introduced to the bird as it sat on my dads shoulder in the hallway outside my bedroom. He relayed the story to me as I laughed.
I tried to touch the little thing ans she would ahve nothing to do with me. Finnaly my dad picked her up and handed her to me, she quickly climber to me shoulder. He tried to pet her some more once she was on my shoulder and oddly enough she would have nothing to do with him any more.
I called a friend who had a spare cage and began to get "him" situated. I couldn't get the bird to step onto my hand off my shoulder. It was hers, and there she stayed. I pied her off, put her in the carrier for then and went to work.
When I got home I greated "him" cheerfully and took "him" out of the cage. I had to take a shower but the bird absolutley refused to get off of my shoulder again.
"Alright, you'll take a shower with me then." She even was kind enough to slip over to my bare shoulder as I tried to wiggle out of my T-shirt without disturbing her (See she already was training me!!!).
We made it into the shower. As I lathered up my hair the bird began a happy little tune, humming and brushing the lather on the side of my head with his beak. I laughed and tried to get it to leave the soap alone. I wasn't sure if it could hurt the bird, or burn it's eyes. The brid still steadfastly refused to get off of my shoulder. There was a bar on the window that you turned ans pushed out to open the window. I pulled the bar out and walked under it. The bird wisely chose to step onto the bar so I could rinse and get dressed.
After I toweled off and put on some clean bedclothes I headed to my room. My room was never heated well, so I sat with the wet bird on my shoulder and a towel draped over my head with just my face showing. The poor bird looked like a drown rat but happily preened my ear and face for a while.
I dozed off at some point that morning and awoke several hours later with one of those sudden intakes of breathe, and the thought, "Oh my God, where's the bird"
I looked to my left shouler and there he was yawning at me after I removed the towel.
I later learned how to handle the bird properly and he taught me you can be a big dog in a little birds body. Stuffed toys many times larger than him are his favorite victims. Place them on his cage and he goes into a "rage" attacking them fron underneath and maneuvering them off the side of the cage. Sometime he would charge out and attack them eye to eye. Then strut proudly back accross the top of the cage with his chest held high.
For the first few days I was undecided on his name. With the way he attacked things, and the shoulder aggression I used to yell at him, "knock it off you little psycho" or "Come here you little psycho"
The day the bird said "Psychoooooooooo" back to me it was decided.
Later in my apartment with Josh I was flicking the toys around the cage by sticking my finger through the bars. Quakers are VERY particular about how their cage is arranged and Psycho found this maddening, running over to the ball with the bell in it and placing it back where I had flicked it from. I was not doing it to be mean, and only flicked it a few times while chatting with Josh.
Finally he had enough, the little bird said clear as a bell, "I'm gonna get you"
Josha nd I both looked at each other and said, "Holy shit did you hear that" and started laughing.
I flicked the toy one more time and the bird charged and bit my finger with a nice pinch, no blood was drawn, but a good warning was delivered.
"Well I can't be mad at him, he did warn me," was all I could say as I laughed.
Several months later when I walked into my bedroom I looked into his cage and saw something odd. "What the hell is that", I thought as I appraoced, "You don't ahve any round white toys..." A light bulb went off in my head as I excitedly yelled to my then b/f, "Rick, Psycho's a girl!"
I had always thoughtI had somehow ended up with a gay bird. "He" would grab my ear and try to hump my neck, getting "swatted" every time. Turns out he was a she in heat. Oddly enough I was laways allowed to handle her eggs. She would dig a nest in the bottom of her cage. That is even more odd considering Quakers are weavers and like tall tress or telephone poles to nest on.
She's got alot of personality, and oh so many stories. She really does chase me through the house and play tag. I can chase her back, but every now and then she just chooses to try and get me again. She loves peek a boo, as does her new b/f Sly. Unfortuanley with the introduction of Sly, Psycho stopped speaking english and has adopted this mumbling toddler kind of a thing. That's quite common according to everything I have read.
My priviledges nol onger involve egg handling so I have to be cautious when that happens. I tried to let them keep their eggs for a few seasons, but they always break them fighting over who is going to sit on them (No-one said they were smart)
I'm sure I'll find more to add later, or as Psycho demands.
7:04 PM
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