*yawn* My body enjoys sleep too much. My mind's all like, "Wake up!" and my body goes "No! Too comfy, roll over!" At least I have an excuse for my extensive napping the past two days - I picked up an early-morning stock shift both yesterday and today (6AM-10AM) which means I had to get up at 4AM two days in a row. It's just tough to get back up when you've been cozy dozy for a few hours.
So I'm reading a book my grandmother got me about Alex, the African Grey 
parrot that for the last 30 years proved that parrots can do more than just mimic, they can understand what they're talking about. It's a real interesting read, even if you're not into parrots. It's extremely funny and some parts are sad since this was written by Alex's ower and trainer, Irene Pepperberg, after Alex died in Sept of 2007 at the somewhat young for a parrot age of 31. (African Greys can live to be 50). It also reminds me of my parrots, Squawker and Chicky, who we adopted off to other people when our hectic lives caused them attention deprivation. Chicky didn't care too much cuz she was kind of a loner for a bird. She enjoyed attention but didn't need it, whereas Squawker needed 24 hour attention as most breeds of conure do. He eventually started self-plucking, a very common psychological disorder in captive birds. The good thing is that both birds are very happy in their new homes. Chicky lives with my dad's friend/coworker/my mom's cousin's husband's parents literally two blocks away so we could actuall visit her if we wanted to (Dave's parents actually paid for the gender testing to confirm my suspicions all these years that Chicky was female, even though we referred to her as a he all that time cuz we weren't sure and was going by her previous owner's assumptions) Squawker is with a man who owns numerous other parrots in a small private aviary, so not only does he have an owner who can give him a lot of proper attention, he has feathered friends now to keep him entertained. I forget where he lives but it's someplace kind of far but not too far, like New Hampshire, or the North Shore or western Mass.
parrot that for the last 30 years proved that parrots can do more than just mimic, they can understand what they're talking about. It's a real interesting read, even if you're not into parrots. It's extremely funny and some parts are sad since this was written by Alex's ower and trainer, Irene Pepperberg, after Alex died in Sept of 2007 at the somewhat young for a parrot age of 31. (African Greys can live to be 50). It also reminds me of my parrots, Squawker and Chicky, who we adopted off to other people when our hectic lives caused them attention deprivation. Chicky didn't care too much cuz she was kind of a loner for a bird. She enjoyed attention but didn't need it, whereas Squawker needed 24 hour attention as most breeds of conure do. He eventually started self-plucking, a very common psychological disorder in captive birds. The good thing is that both birds are very happy in their new homes. Chicky lives with my dad's friend/coworker/my mom's cousin's husband's parents literally two blocks away so we could actuall visit her if we wanted to (Dave's parents actually paid for the gender testing to confirm my suspicions all these years that Chicky was female, even though we referred to her as a he all that time cuz we weren't sure and was going by her previous owner's assumptions) Squawker is with a man who owns numerous other parrots in a small private aviary, so not only does he have an owner who can give him a lot of proper attention, he has feathered friends now to keep him entertained. I forget where he lives but it's someplace kind of far but not too far, like New Hampshire, or the North Shore or western Mass. But anyway, Chicky wasn't much of a talker, she could say "Hi!" and would repeatedly to anyone who walked in the door. Her forte was sound effects including everyone's favorite zipper impression. Squawker knew various phrases, but he didn't have the same intelligence as Alex. He was smart on his own level, though. While I don't think he had a full understanding of what he was saying, he was observant enough to see the cues of when certain phrases were said. For example, he would go on a squawking spree and then spontaneouly tell himself to "shut up!" or say "how are you?" to someone who just walked in the door (although he would also start saying "how are you" randomly to get people's attention. He'd also scream "Cut the shit!" if anyone was arguing. But he was smart enough to convey his wants, needs and feelings in other ways when he didn't know the words. He had a specific squawk for different wants, fears or if a sound went off (ie, the phone ringing squawk, the "OMG THERE'S A VACUUM CLEANER!!" squawk, "I want whatever you're eating" squawk and the "Play with me!" squawk.) So he basically taught us the proper response to his squawks the way we'd teach him to talk...But he had a personality unlike any other pet bird I've known. He tried to be as human as possible. He even mimicked laughter whenever we laughed. (He confused sobbing with laughter too which sometimes lightened up sad situations. Imagine bawling your eyes out, but this mitred conure's sitting in the corner chuckling). He loved music, and would actually headbang to hard rock. He particularly liked Back in Black by AC/DC, Wango Tango by Ted Nugent and Little Willy by Sweet. He was also a very affectionate bird. He trusted and loved my dad the most, mainly because he had the longest relationship with him. Ever since his previous owner, a cowork of my dad's, brought him to work all the time, Squawker took to my dad. One event sealed this trust. Danny brought Squawker to work and said "Look I clipped his wings!" and Squawker took off flying. This was when my dad still worked at a car dealership on the Malden/Melrose line and Squawker flew to the nearby Mt Hood Golf Course. Everyone took off following him and found him in a tree on the golf course. Squawker was so terrified he bit the hell out of Danny when he tried to get him out of the tree. Squawker would only go to my dad for some reason. So when Danny moved to Maine and had no working heat for the first 6 months in his new home, my dad was the first and only choice for bird sitter. Squawker quickly took to my mom and me in that time too. He moved back with Danny for about a year or two until Danny's girlfriend (Squawker and Lisa mutally hated each other) had enough and Squawker came back to live with us permanently (while Squawker was back with Danny, we got another mitred conure, Buddy who was retarded and shortly after went to live with a lady in a wheelchair and Chicky to fill the void Squawker left). In the 6-8 years we had Squawker, he really took to my mom and he gained a lot of trust in me too. The only one he didn't really like was Heather. He'd chase her whenever he was out of his cage (even upstairs, it was funny to see her run screaming up the stairs and then see him slowly pull himself up). But he loved to play with us and he'd show his affection by climbing up to your shoulder and nuzzling you with his beak. He had his neuroses like a lot of birds: he had an obsession with towels, and they were a security blanket of sorts. He loved burrowing under them and playing with him, if you couldn't get him to climb on your arm or go back in his cage you could scoop him up with a towel, and it was the only thing you could hold him with when he was getting his wings clipped. Also, he would snap if you made any strange noises and snap at you; if you were a few feet away when you made the noise he'd charge at you with his beak open ready to bite. It was kind of funny. Dr Pepperberg's relationship with Alex, who learned to say "I'm sorry" and "I love you" and mean it just gets me reminiscing about Squawker, even though he wasn't much like Alex. Squawker just had such a unique personality. Even if I got another mitred conure it wouldn't be the same. You'd have to be a bird aficionado to really understand though.
Anyway, that's enough rambling about parrots. I'm going to Friday's with Flav in a little bit and probably going to work on some crafts and get some good pictures of my Gryffindor scarf. So yay.
