My parrot loves zucchini. He’s a good boy. He eats his veggies. So do I.
But unfortunately, I’ve learned the hard way that Kris cannot be on my shoulder while I prepare vegetables. He constantly tries to jump down into them. It’s a constant struggle.
Seriously, I cook zucchini often enough that he recognizes the scent of the zucchini sauteing while still caged. He starts becoming more vocal, excited in anticipation of his treat. Kris knows that I will save him some thick end pieces which I trimmed off.
There is a special spot by the sink where I place all of his treats. These can range from trimmings from various fruits or vegetables, a crust of whole-grain bread, or perhaps a bit of egg. Kris loves them all.
Kris doesn’t eat very much
Alas, he doesn’t eat very much. The problem is that he will eat heartily with me standing next to him as I putter at the sink. The moment I step away to put something in the refrigerator or stir a pot on the stove, he will panic and fly right back to my shoulder. He could be starving but is willing to abandon the goodies to fly back to me.
July 4th is a tough day for Kris. Actually, in my neighborhood, it was a tough week for the little guy. Forget about being July 4th tough day.
Every year my neighbors set off fireworks in their yards, all week long. This makes for a nice display for me, I just sit on my front porch. No need to join crowds fighting for parking spaces at some public venue.
Sure the displays I view aren’t as ornate as those by the municipality but they are plentiful and last most of the night. At my age, a little sparkle in the sky is all I require. I am happy.
Kris was not happy at all. I didn’t realize how bad it was until the night he was merrily perched on my shoulder in the dining room.
Suddenly, a set of firecrackers went off nearby. Startled, he squawked, flapped his wings, and flew down to the floor, scurrying around to seek shelter.
The sound of the firecrackers wasn’t overly loud, just the usual report of them going off one after the other. There wasn’t any loud boom like the M80s that went off earlier in the evening.
Two days later, the same thing happened again. Another set of firecrackers crackled in the night. He repeated his behavior of the past night, flying down to the floor as if looking for a place to hide.
Realization struck me
It was then that the realization occurred. The loudness or surprise wasn’t necessarily what bothered my Princess Parrot but the frequency of the sound waves made by firecrackers going off compared to some of the other fireworks being set off in the neighborhood. (So, should I tell my neighbors M80s and bottle rockets are OK but please don’t use firecrackers. Yeah, right.)
July 4th tough day and week for my blue parrot who will need a little more attention on these difficult holidays in the future.
How does your feathered buddy do with fireworks? Please comment below.
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You love avocado. Therefore you might ask what about avocado for parrots, as you try to protect your avocado salad from your feathery beaked friend?
Parrots will try any food out at least once. Actually, they will try anything just to see what they can get away with. Bold critters.
I recently read on Twitter a tweet about how avocado is poisonous for parrots. I thanked the gentleman for the info.
Now I don’t know about you but I truly enjoy avocados. I eat them frequently. Kris enjoys his cage-free time and is often about when I dine. Thank God I have kept him away from my avocado when I had it.
From now on I will only enjoy avocado when he is back in his cage. He’s my buddy. I’d rather keep him safe.
Caged wants out. Yes, that’s what Kris would write on the wall if he knew how. No, he wasn’t in birdie jail for bad behavior. Mom didn’t let him out for almost a week and a half because I had cellulitis in my left arm. Kris has a habit of riding around on my shoulder when I am walking but if I sit down, he will perch on my arm. The way my arm was infected, I couldn’t risk him arm perching.
Please note, during this time period, I spent plenty of time near his cage, talking to him, and giving him attention. I understand that he is a people parrot who wants to be a part of whatever may be happening. Knowing him, he did not think it was enough.
He was a wildman when I finally released him. Couldn’t stop chattering and squawking. Immediately climbed up on my shoulder and would not shut up. I had on a long sleeve shirt to protect my arms but he stayed on my shoulder the whole time he was out.
Holy cow! what a happy birdie. Nice to see him happy.
Scared my parrot the other day. Poor Kris. He was riding around the kitchen on my shoulder as I cooked. I had a frittata in the oven that was ready. I said “stay back”, not that he knew what it meant, bent down, and opened the oven.
A sudden blast of heat came forth. Kris squawked and flew off towards the living room. Kris wasn’t hurt, just surprised and unhappy. I did not go looking for him but later heard him flying around, I did not worry, figured he sounded OK.
About an hour later I went into the living room to check on him. Kris had not gone back into his cage nor was he anywhere in the living room. I started looking around downstairs since he couldn’t have thought of going upstairs. He was not in the dining room, family room, or laundry. I looked up on curtain rods and tops of furniture. I knew he wasn’t in the kitchen with me. Oh, oh.
I headed upstairs to take a look around. I searched all the bedrooms and the bathroom. Kris was nowhere in sight.
Nobody had gone outside or come in either so he did not escape to the great outdoors. Deep trouble. (Oh, wait a minute. Trouble is the cat’s name.) Kris was not in Trouble, she did not eat him. Thank goodness she is getting old. It would have been more interesting in her younger days.
Sat down at the computer and waited awhile before I resumed my parrot hunt. Wasn’t in a rush to do another where’s Waldo.
Another hour went by before I decided to resume the search. Where oh where did my boy go? Checked the entire downstairs again. No Kris to be seen.
I headed upstairs. The first doorway straight ahead was the bathroom. There was Kris sitting on the edge of the shower stall. I have no idea where he had been before when I checked the second floor.
I extended my hand and said step up. He jumped onto my hand and I placed him on my shoulder. Brought Kris back downstairs. Immediately I brought him to his cage. Kris was grounded for the rest of the day. No more birdie chasing for me.
Just bought an ergonomic sand perch for Kris from Great Companions. He doesn’t let me touch him so I an unable to load him into his carrier to bring him for nail trimming or even wing clipping even though he will climb all over me. I’m not sure how I’d even transport him to the vet if he was seriously sick and we all know that a bird doesn’t look sick until he is truly in bad shape.
I had a discussion with my friend who owns the umbrella cockatoo and he told me how he uses a sand perch for Murphy (the umbrella cockatoo). Murphy hasn’t needed his nails trimmed in about a year thanks to the sand perch.
Now a sand perch has been one of the items on my wish list for when I had a little extra money to spend. Even though they look funny, and they do, I was aware of their benefit, knowing in the long run, Kris needed it.
I splurged in spite of my budget. Actually, it wasn’t too expensive and shipping wasn’t bad.
Kris has 3 other perches. Two are wood and came with his cage. The third is a multi-colored stiff rope that I twisted from front to back in his cage near some toys. This new royal blue sand perch is raised a little higher, going across the front of Kris’ cage. Looks good.
I didn’t notice Kris on the sand perch the first day it was installed. The second day, Kris was perched upon it as if it had been in the cage forever, not new at all. Boy, was I glad to see this.
Kris is enjoying his sand perch. He has figured out that he has a better view of the stairs, front door, and hallway with the perch’s location. Hey, eventually his nails will even be sanded down.
Kris was strutting around the kitchen floor the other day. He was so darn proud of himself until — in walked the cat. Kris squawked and flew off in panic. I don’t know why he bothered to panic. The cat was ignoring him and heading to her food dish. Frankly Scarlet, she didn’t give a damn.
Later Kris was climbing all over me. Sweetheart, I’m not a jungle gym. I just play one on TV (no). He even climbed on top of my head. Kris is my new hat, one of the latest fashion trends.
I just wish he’d stay still long enough so I could get better pictures. When he does sit still, he is up on a curtain rod or atop high furniture where the angles aren’t good.