TACTICS

This is a parrot attempting to look innocent.
He radiates, "What? Look I've got my foot up. I'm not doing one little thing." Blink, blink.
This is a parrot who has discovered that there is cording on the chair's edge under the towel. He really, really, really wants to chew said cording off the chair. I do not want the parrot to chew the cording off the chair. And that's where I thought we'd left it yesterday.

Today I'm standing in the kitchen when out of the corner of my eye, several large black wings flash past the kitchen window. Quick! Up in the tree, there are three crows. Two against one.
"One" is nipping at the feet of "Two". Two takes off pursued by One.

"Three" on the other hand, watches them go, then catches a glimpse of me through the window. Drat!


But she doesn't bug off, she gives me a binoc look...

and hunkers down on the branch to watch the progress of One and Two. All those times I couldn't get a look from less than 30 yards and now this one just sits there?

...and sits there some more. Not a local scaredy crow? One who's come in from a more human dense area? Or perhaps, they just don't mind observation nearly as much when it isn't breeding season?

I look out at the patio and there are Doorstep Dove and Friend, a couple once again without their progeny in tow. Then I realize I haven't seen the kids sitting on the bath at dusk for a few days. Have they scattered? That's a little sad. Or have I just not thought to look for them at the right time?

Ah ha! There they are--all five of them.
I like that. I turn away and see the parrot on the chair. "Silver!"

Well "the parrot" has started picking at the loops of the towel directly above the cording and is unraveling them, attempting to get through to the delicious treat underneath. Well now he's got it started, he's never going to leave it alone. The aqua towel comes off and a pink one without pulled loops goes on. Ha! Take that parrot!

For some reason sunset seems to last for ages.

I go about my business when my eye lands on the parrot. The parrot is beaking folds of towel up to his foot and attempting to wad up enough, high enough, to get the you know what. He must feel my eyes, or my lack of movement because suddenly,

"Actually, yeah, I just had to stretch."

And which foot went up? The one that had been holding the wad.

"See, the towel hasn't moved."

Oh this is a good one. A very effective new technique, step forward, pull the towel back, careful don't slide too far back and fall off, step forward ,slide the towel back, pull...

"Silver! What are you doing?"

"Wanna watch TV, want carrot." The verbal diversion technique, but maybe he does want a carrot.

I say, "Just a minute, let me finish this. I'll get you a carrot."

"Wanna watch TV. Wanna watch TV."

Geez. "Okay Silver, I'll turn on the TV."

I turn on Nature. I get back and sit down. HE'S GOT IT! He's chewing the cording.
"Bad bird! Don't chew the chair".

With his beak closed over the still connected cording he eyes me, tugs, and produces a muffled, "No, NO."

"Okay, Silver that's IT. You can't sit on the chair anymore. Up." I put him on top of his cage, six feet away. BEEP! BEEP! Wings spread begging. Beep! Beep!

I leave him there for five minutes, ignoring him.

Then we're back to, "Wanna watch TV, wanna watch tv..."

Bob, bob, bob, up and down on bended knees. "Bird, BIRD."

Bird?

He usually doesn't use that word by itself. It's usually used when he argues. I say, "Bad bird" about something he shouldn't be doing and he counters with "Good Bird!" ie, It's perfectly fine for him to do it in his opinion. (Yeah, I know, a companion animal that argues with you. Who knew?) Ah, that's what it is. When I look at the TV there are flamingos dancing. It is Nature after all. I move him back to the chair so he can see better. (Wait a minute, how did he know that a flamingo was a bird? Did the narrator say the word bird?) He's fixated. He watches the flamingos, then he watches the Emperor Penquins dance. Now it's a zorro, and then ducklings leaping madly off rocks into rapids, diving, swimming back to the rocks, scrambling up them, and leaping off again...

Finally the chair is safe.

Well, at least until Nature is over.

Donegal Browne