One of my biggest joys is having pets. I have always been intrigued by animals. I used to keep pet rats, and everything was hunky dory until a year in I developed a severe allergy to the protein that is present in their urine. I went to the doctor and he told me point blank that I should 'get rid of them' so I said 'fat chance, mate. Now what else is there you can give me' So he sent me on my merry way with a steroid nasal spray and enough antihistamines to provide enough allergy relief for a small city. He told me I had to stand on my head when I sprayed it into my bunged up nostrils. Ho ho! A doctor with a sense of humour!
So I endured another two years of constant breathlessness and flu like symptoms until all the rats had passed on. I didn't get another pet for the next five years. The black capped lory took my fancy when I was at university. However, I decided my hands were full enough with my mischief of rats.
So now I have finally got my new friends after 5 years. The humble Green Cheek Conure. These little birds may be small but their personality is stubborn, clownish, funny and every shade of loony. My two like to play the 'good cop, bad cop' routine with me. One day one will be a nightmare, eating my plants, biting, running circles around me and generally seeing what awful naughtiness it can get away with, and the other will be a little dear, sitting either on my lap happily chirping away and preening my hair while on my shoulder. Then the roles will be reversed the next day. They know exactly how to give me pet induced whiplash! They love training and will do anything for a little treat. At the moment we are working on them being able to step up onto my fingers without shredding them to bits. Their bites certainly pack a punch and break the skin when they want. My hands currently look like they are host to a bad bout of scabies. Not good when you work with food. Only god knows what people think when they see my hands. They probably go home and disinfect their clothes and google: 'How contagious is scabies'
Cicero is a cinnamon green cheek conure and Kouki (pronounced Ko-key) is a pineapple green cheek conure. They are both flighted, meaning they can fly about. I don't see the sense in cutting a birds wing feathers. Besides, I have so much more fun with my birds flying around my head and room like a pair of malfunctioning spitfires, screeching their heads off with all the fun they are having chasing each other. I can't imagine them with their wings clipped. They'd be so boring, stuck in the same spot or on my shoulder or where ever I place them. All three of us would be yawning.
These guy poo a lot, in little amounts. Honestly, I'm considering setting up my own fertiliser company. I'd be making a small fortune. To these guys, nothing is sacred. My books, my clothes, my bed, my carpet, my head, my clean washing hanging up. The only place they don't poo (which would be great, if they actually did poop there) is my plant pots. I guess they don't know their nitrogen rich doo doo would be a much needed treat for my poor plants that have to put up with their unrelenting beaks. I think they find me running after them with a tissue and spray bottle a very amusing game. They probably think I'm collecting their little packages for something and only want to help out. Potty training is a must once we all get used to each other. For now, news paper and under the popular spots will suffice. Cicero, as I type this, just landed on my laptop, took a generous poo on my screen and then flew off. Gee, thanks. I can see this blossoming into a wonderful, friendship, full of kindness and respect for each other.
Just look at these cheeky little faces. They look like drowned rats when they have taken a wee bath! And soak everything in their direct vicinity. Too adorable. They are a massive handful and are prone to mood swings that will put any hormonal teenager to shame, but I wouldn't change them for the world. I should have called them Time and Patience, as a constant reminder that those are the key ingredients for anybody who owns a couple of hyper parrots. Of one thing, I am certain. There will be many fun and interesting times to be had :)
So I endured another two years of constant breathlessness and flu like symptoms until all the rats had passed on. I didn't get another pet for the next five years. The black capped lory took my fancy when I was at university. However, I decided my hands were full enough with my mischief of rats.
So now I have finally got my new friends after 5 years. The humble Green Cheek Conure. These little birds may be small but their personality is stubborn, clownish, funny and every shade of loony. My two like to play the 'good cop, bad cop' routine with me. One day one will be a nightmare, eating my plants, biting, running circles around me and generally seeing what awful naughtiness it can get away with, and the other will be a little dear, sitting either on my lap happily chirping away and preening my hair while on my shoulder. Then the roles will be reversed the next day. They know exactly how to give me pet induced whiplash! They love training and will do anything for a little treat. At the moment we are working on them being able to step up onto my fingers without shredding them to bits. Their bites certainly pack a punch and break the skin when they want. My hands currently look like they are host to a bad bout of scabies. Not good when you work with food. Only god knows what people think when they see my hands. They probably go home and disinfect their clothes and google: 'How contagious is scabies'
Cicero is a cinnamon green cheek conure and Kouki (pronounced Ko-key) is a pineapple green cheek conure. They are both flighted, meaning they can fly about. I don't see the sense in cutting a birds wing feathers. Besides, I have so much more fun with my birds flying around my head and room like a pair of malfunctioning spitfires, screeching their heads off with all the fun they are having chasing each other. I can't imagine them with their wings clipped. They'd be so boring, stuck in the same spot or on my shoulder or where ever I place them. All three of us would be yawning.
These guy poo a lot, in little amounts. Honestly, I'm considering setting up my own fertiliser company. I'd be making a small fortune. To these guys, nothing is sacred. My books, my clothes, my bed, my carpet, my head, my clean washing hanging up. The only place they don't poo (which would be great, if they actually did poop there) is my plant pots. I guess they don't know their nitrogen rich doo doo would be a much needed treat for my poor plants that have to put up with their unrelenting beaks. I think they find me running after them with a tissue and spray bottle a very amusing game. They probably think I'm collecting their little packages for something and only want to help out. Potty training is a must once we all get used to each other. For now, news paper and under the popular spots will suffice. Cicero, as I type this, just landed on my laptop, took a generous poo on my screen and then flew off. Gee, thanks. I can see this blossoming into a wonderful, friendship, full of kindness and respect for each other.
Just look at these cheeky little faces. They look like drowned rats when they have taken a wee bath! And soak everything in their direct vicinity. Too adorable. They are a massive handful and are prone to mood swings that will put any hormonal teenager to shame, but I wouldn't change them for the world. I should have called them Time and Patience, as a constant reminder that those are the key ingredients for anybody who owns a couple of hyper parrots. Of one thing, I am certain. There will be many fun and interesting times to be had :)