Swept from the corners of my mind….
Last column I introduced you to my Congo African Gray parrot, Fidget. African Grays are easy to identify. They’re the gray birds with red tail feathers; they tend to weigh around a pound and stand about a foot tall. They really like to talk. A famous online Congo African Gray is Einstein (check him out on YouTube).
I have another parrot, though. Chicky is a Senegal parrot, and she holds a huge chunk of my heart in her teeny claw. These are tiny, able to sit in the palm of your hand. She weighs less than 3 ounces and is about 8 inches tall if she stretches. Bright green with a gray head, her chest and belly are covered in a yellow “waistcoat” that is eye-catching. Her eyes have golden pupils that can shrink to pinpoints when she is angry (a Sennie trait). She doesn’t speak English, but she does have recognizable sounds, such as the “where is my flock” scream that sounds like she’s yelling “Chick-EEEEEEEEE!” Hence her name.
I have no idea of Chicky’s actual gender. Congo African Grays and Senegals are sexually monomorphic, which means that the only reliable way to be sure of their gender them is to do a DNA test or find a freshly-laid egg. As Fidget had bloodwork done not long after he came to us, I had the test done to confirm he is male. Chicky has never needed bloodwork, and I am not going to subject her to a needle-poke unnecessarily, so I just guessed. I can be totally wrong, but it really doesn’t matter. Birds don’t care if humans call them he, she, or they. They want food, fun and flight. The rest is inconsequential.
The most striking part of Chicky is her personality. Sennies choose their Person and shun the rest of the world. They are tiny little reservoirs of Passion. If they like you, they love you utterly and demand that you be with them constantly. If you are NOT their person, you must die. It’s as simple as that. Chicky is a jealous birb. There are a few women she tolerates, but very few, and she is smart enough to recognize unacceptable individuals, keeping them on her hit list for decades.
Ten years ago, my son deliberately frightened her. To this day we must cover her cage when he is in the house because she utters nonstop screeches of doom if he is indoors. She would follow through if she could, too, its not just bravado. There have been times when that 6’2”, 220 lb outdoorsman has dropped by without warning during her flight time. It only takes moments for her to recognize him and attack, biting scratching and flogging his head until I can pull her off. Back to her cage, staring and screaming threats until she is covered again. She wants him dead, and time will not change that that quest.
This loathing is not just for ManSon. She had my 160 lb Newfoundland cowed to the point that he would duck his head and leave the room if she was let out of her cage. She has tried to attack both the cats, has snuck up and nipped the toes, nose or tail of all 3 dogs, and even bites occasional visitor. Fidget has special dispensation to poke his beak through her bars for a quick kiss, but if she is out of her cage he knows to keep far away, as well.
Why do I keep this bad-tempered dust bunny? you ask. Because those 2.7 ounces of passion love as strongly as they hate. Chicky adores me with her whole being. She will fly through the house screaming for me, then land sweetly on my shoulder and snuggle. She apologizes for biting at me using sweet little chirps and peeps. She trusts me enough to fall asleep on me and does not fight when I pick her up and carry her to her cage. If I scold her, she clowns about until I laugh. How can I not love someone so adorable?
Besides, Chicky has never nagged me to go to bed, and we all thrive with unconditional acceptance.
Cathy Bendle finds humour in the quirks of everyday life, from training teachers to dodging housework. When not writing, she’s either laughing at her pets, frantically Googling for her work assignments, or playing on her iPad. Her column appears every other Wednesday.
