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Crabby diem! And there's a lot more where that came from. Iím so angry I could just spit sunflower seeds. I can't believe the audacity of mother! I still vibrate when I think about it. Mother decided to go on vacation to St. Barnabas. I think it's an island in the Caribbean. But she left us - plain and simple. She didn't leave us with a 24 hour maid service as we are used to, but a flimsy twice a day birdsitting service. Bunch of incompetents!!!!!!!!!!!
Maryann, the old lady that lives upstairs, has birds of her own. At least, she fed us grapes, yams, carrots, and sprouts. But that other old lady, Marie, she doesn't even have birds, just a fat old cat that belongs in a retirement home. When we birds realized what Mother had done, we held a major bird conference and decided it was time for "Squiggles revenge. We would become parrots from Hell!!!!!!!! Benjamin (Eclectus) known as "Mommy's little piggy became "Mommy's mean green snapping machine."
When either of the birdsitters came near my cage, I would pitch such a beak attack, I even surprised myself. Actually, I tried to foam at the beak like a washing machine, but I was unsuccessful!
Goliath (Amazon) did an outstanding job as the dragon bird. He would growl and make awful noises and snap and lunge when anyone came near him.
Of course, we small African birds wanted to have a back-up Senegal attack. One of us would revert back to the 2 year old stage when we became uncontrollable. We voted for Nehemiah (red-bellied parrot). He hosted such a display that it was simply superb, and still is to this very day. He terrorized both bird sitters so bad that twice they ended up dropping the water dishes all over the floor and sent the old ladies squealing in terror! We laughed so hard we nearly fell off our perches.
After two vicious days of attacks from us, the birdsitters decided to pull out the heavy artillery, which consisted of oven mitts and Tupperware covers to protect themselves from us.
Of course, Mort got into the fun, especially at night. He would spook the birdsitters by talking in a man's voice.Lastly, we sent word to Malachi (Amazon). He is a bird who lives upstairs, and he adopted Mother about 6 months ago. We asked him to stage a frontal attack that the birdsitters would never live down. You see, Malachi loves Mother. She is the only one who can handle him. Malachi also can escape from his cage through the hole where the water dish belongs. Of course, no one was aware that Malachi was able to do this. Anyway, we sent word to Malachi that Mother went on vacation. He didn't believe us and decided to make sure she was really gone. Well, one night, as they were changing his water bowl, he crawled out and sat as proud as a peacock on top of his cage. The birdsitters were hysterical with fear. Malachi jumped from cage to cage and then on to the floor, running from room to room and screaming, growling, and lunging at everything in his path. It was getting to the point of calling Ray Datz to come over and catch him, when they finally cornered Malachi with the bird carrier. He crawled into it and they swiftly planted him back in his cage! Both birdsitters acquired 10 new gray hairs after that incident.
Well, Mother's home now. She doesn't walk real well. Probably because she got a bad sunburn or something. She acts pretty miserable, but it serves her right. Anyway, she needs help to walk. So, she uses a perchmobile. It ís a perch with wheels. She putters around the house with the stupid thing, probably so she doesn't go pot on the floor.
Well, keep those letters coming. I need to sign off for now. Marie is coming to change my water. Let's see what finger I can bite today.
I'm so happy I could just sing...... Oh, happy day! Oh, happy day! When Mother sent those birdsitters away." Yes, it's hard to believe, but those incompetents finally left, taking their ragged oven mitts and their mangled Tupperware covers and haven't been seen since. My advice to them is that they should get out of the birdsitting business while they still have all their fingers! Maybe they could try the plantsitting business.
Actually, we owe a lot to Goliath (Amazon) for getting Mother back on her feet. He appointed himself as Mother's personal physical therapist. Most of the time, Goliath is a blockhead, all brawn - no brains, and a big windbag. But, he really surprised us with his training program. He had Mother running back and forth from morning until night.
It all started when he began taking the food bowls out of the brackets and dumping them. After Mother got sick and tired of refilling the bowls and cleaning up the mess, she figured out a way to "fix" the bowls so Goliath couldn't dump them. But, Goliath was determined, so he decided to take the brackets off, and while he was at it, pop the water dish out of the cage. What a mess! Mort (Grey) would yell, "Don't throw that on the floor, I just scrubbed!" This nonsense went on for about a week. Mother decided it was time to get new bowls - bird proof ones (supposedly). Well, Goliath managed to find a way to dump those bowls too. Poor Mother; things just seemed to go from bad to worse. Goliath decided to redecorate his cage. He took down his perches, the mineral and manu blocks, as well as all his toys, and piled them at the bottom of the cage. Mother would hang everything up - Goliath would take everything down. Mother finally got the bright idea that he must be bored, so she planted him in a larger cage. He hasn't figured out how to dump the dishes yet, but he is trying awfully hard. But, be did figure out how to open the cage door and let himself out! Mother had just gone to take a nap when she began hearing Sassy (caique) screaming his silly head off. When Mother came into the bird room, there was Sassy hiding in the corner of his cage - there, was Goliath sitting on top of Sassy's cage saying, "Oh, what a pretty bird. Come here baby." Well, Goliath got busted big time. Now he has a lock on the cage - probably not for long.
Jesse (Eclectus) has been feeling much better lately. She has an illness called hieroglyphism, or something like that. She had perpetual PMS and was going bald! I suppose that is why she was so crabby. You know how females are about their feathers and looking good all the time. She's on medicine now, thank heaven, to keep those darn hormone things in line. I'm telling you, those hormone things are more trouble than what they're worth. Honestly, if it were up to me, I would pack them up and send them to hell to be used for fuel!
Getting back to Jesse; she has grown all her feathers back. But, she decided to become a double yellow-headed Amamaclectus. For heaven sake, she's every color but what she should be. She hasn't the faintest idea how to wear her feathers! Talk about gaudy! I need sun glasses to even glance her way. Someone needs to teach her how to dress!
Well, I should sign off for now. Mother is resting. I'm going to push my cage tray out so it falls on the floor. That should send Mother running back in here. Hey, she needs her exercise! Keep those letters coming.
A big hello from Squiggle's Palace, located in New Jersey's rainforest. I want to remind my fans that I personally will be speaking at the club in November. Please inform your pet humans that I expect to be treated no differently than you would treat the queen. My topic that night will be "How to train your pet human." If you have any questions regarding this topic, please send them to me.
Here is a letter I received some time ago from 2 canaries named Jekyl and Hyde:
Tweet, Tweet, Tweet, Hi Zachy!
Dear Jekyl and Hyde,
Well, I must be going for now. I want to take a short nap before that stupid Raisin Brat shoots his mouth off. Honestly, I'd like to knock him up the side of his head with a giant chick pea! Bye for now and keep those letters coming!
Greetings to all my bird fans and their human pets! It's been a hectic month, as I have received numerous calls inquiring about Goliath (Amazon) and his escapades.
You'd think by now, Mother would have learned her lesson about buying toys for Goliath. When he was only a few months old, he looked and acted like a giant baby Huey. Mother decided to
buy him a big toy--a Macaw toy. The toy was worth a day's pay in bank teller wages. She figured, since he liked to chew wood, that he might appreciate a giant cactus cowboy. The toy was so
fat, it barely fit into his cage, but Goliath was in his glory, as he yanked on the limbs of the toy man and chattered in Amazon language. Mother was so proud of herself. She found a toy that
would keep Goliath busy for days! Everyone who believes that, walk on the ceiling! About an hour later, Mother decided to check in on Goliath. Poor Mr. Cowboy, all that was left of him was
his big fat head. The rest of his body lay pulverized on the bottom of the cage!
Well, that has been the story of Goliath and his toys. Mother buys -- Goliath destroys, usually within the same hour. Incidentally, Goliath still looks and acts like a big baby Huey. Anyway, a few weeks ago, Mother got the bright idea to buy him some acrylic toys. Silly woman! If she had a brain, she'd be dangerous! The first toy, Goliath totally dismantled in less than a half hour. He managed to rip the dice and chains off the piece of acrylic and throw it out of the cage. One toy down, one more to go. Mother hung the toy and Goliath managed to twist the rattle off the chain. He began carrying the rattle up to his perch and then letting it drop to the bottom of the cage. Every time it crashed on the cage grate, it made a terrible noise and would scare all of us silly. Goliath would giggle and scream with delight. Well, Mother busted him in the act, and that was the last he's seen of the rattle toy!
I want to mention that I am looking forward to speaking at the Club in November. My topic will be "How to train your pet human." Already, I an instructing "Mommie darling". She's going to be my little helper for the seminar, as long as she behaves herself and keeps her comments to herself. If she's good, I might give her a whole quarter and she can buy something at the BIRDIE BOUTIQUE.
According to the Pip-squeak Poll (Poicephalus parrot equivalent to the Gallop Poll), parrots voted as their number one human peeve -- Humans who have a one word vocabulary, "Hello". They insist on standing in front of us and saying, "Hello", incessantly. It's really unnerving. When someone does that to me, I just hang on the side of the cage and squirt them. Who wants to listen to, "Hello", from morning till night! I know that humans aren't as highly evolved as us, but this is ridiculous. Honestly, you'd think they'd at least learn a few more phrases! It's just plain
neurotic!
Speaking of repetition, a few days ago, we kept hearing the song, "You Are My Sunshine", every few minutes. Now, there are 4 of us who have the same music box in our cages. The song continued to play at regular intervals. Mother was getting quite perturbed, because it was late in the evening and she couldn't figure out who was setting off the music box. She strongly suspected Sassy or Brat. No real reason, only because they are Caiques. The music continued to play on.....Mother was convinced by now that one of the music boxes had a mind of its own! She would hunt out the possessed toy and put it out of its misery. It turned out that it was not any of the music boxes. It was a musical bird in one of the planters. It plays the song when the plant needs
watering!
Well, I must sign off for now. See you soon and keep those letters coming.
Crabby Diem! If you're wondering why I have ruffled feathers, I just got back from seeing the vet. I have to go on a diet! I could just spit pellets! Whoever said that you could lose weight by eating like a bird is full of hogwash. I eat like a bird - - a peck at a time. Now I'm tipping the scale at 145. Mother says I'm too plump. What does she know?
Speaking of Mother, someone asked me where in the world I found Mother. Where in the world is right! I usually tell my parrot friends to buy their human pets from the same country. Domestically raised humans make the best pets. I learned the hard way. I found Mother on sale. She was imported from a country called Michigan in a one nest town called Menahoochee or Menomoonee, something strange like that. Anyway, training her has been a real testing of my patience. She's not bad for an import!
Since I'm in a bad mood, I might as well get a few things off my beak. Have you noticed that sometimes humans say the dumbest things? It drives me crazy. It makes me wonder if they were hatched yesterday or did they fly in with the wild birds overnight??????
Here are a few examples: How do birds eat? They don't have any teeth. Honestly, I would love to say, Put your finger in the cage and Ill show you. On second thought, put your finger in Goliath's cage. I just swept. Who made this mess? Don't look at us. We didn't make that mess. It was the neighbor lady. She didn't have any room in her garbage can. She came and threw a whole dustpan of seeds on the floor when you weren't looking! Why do these birds throw their food on the floor? I can't walk barefoot in here! Listen, we birds get our exercise by throwing food. Who gave you permission to walk barefoot in our room anyway? If you don't start wearing shoes, we will start bombing on the floor. Try tracking that around the house!
Things have been pretty quiet around here lately. The other day, we had a visitor, Diane Wanamaker. She gave a few of us haircuts and pedicures. We were on our best behavior. We certainly didn't want her getting scissor happy! While she was here, she had the privilege to listen to Dr. Irene Pepperberg, who was lecturing us in our bird room. Actually, it was Mort (Grey) imitating her talking to Alex. From what I understand, he has Irene's voice down perfectly. Sassy (Caique) learned a new trick last week. She learned to imitate the CO detector alarm. Well, every time she sounded off, it caused a chain reaction. Meshach (Senegal),Snuggles (Meyers), Nehemiah (Red bellied), Samson (Amazon), Brat (Caique) and Mort would all drop to the bottom of their cages. Of course, Sassy did the same so she wouldn't be suspected. Samson would Yell What happened? incessantly until Mother would come into the bird room. Mother kept checking the CO detector. Then she realized it was one of us playing a trick. She strongly suspected Mort until the other day. She happened to be holding Sassy, when the little wingnut sounded off. Talk about getting busted red-handed!
Well, I must sign off for now. I'm making lean cuisine soup in my water bowl. Rumor has it that Mother is considering water bottles for us again! Woman, dream on!!!!!!!!!!
THEY'RE BACK.....just when you thought it was safe to make stew in your water bowl, those dreaded water bottles creep back into our lives! There goes the neighborhood! Mother's going to have a fight on her hands. I'll keep you informed on our progress of ridding the bird room of that nuisance.
While I'm in the mood -- what's this about the Ray Datz Bird Review?????? Did HE pull up the bucket? NO! Did HE ride the car? NO! Did HE ride the train? NO! Ray didn't do a single trick! Some humans, you can't take them anywhere! Poor Miranda and Peanuts! They ended up doing all the work, while Ray ate sunflower seeds. Even Barney tried getting Ray to sit on the train, but Ray kept on running to the other side of the room. I guess it just goes to show you that no matter how well humans behave and perform at home, You can't count on them doing the same when performing in public. Barney's Birdie Review is a good example of that. I just hope that when I bring Mommie Darling to the club in November, she'll be better behaved than Ray!
Well, it's official, Sassy and Brat (Caiques) are males. They got sexed last month. I'm not sure how it happened, but it must have been terrible! In fact, after the procedure, both of them cursed in Caique for a whole day! They were not happy campers!
Someone once asked me how I tell those two darn Caiques apart. Actually, I try not to tell them apart; I try to ignore them, hoping maybe they will go away. They carry on, screaming and hollering at each other from morning until night. Even Mort yells, "Diana Da Floor, they're driving me crazy!" But, I Suppose if I had to describe each of them, the only difference would be their personality. Sassy reminds me of that famous Caique, "Kiwi," from Caged Bird Hobbyist. Brat reminds me of the other famous Caique, "Spikey Le Bec," from the Pet Bird Report. That is the only good thing I can say about either of them. If it were up to me, I would put a very short leash on them and give them a whole bottle of Bird Calm! Honestly, they are wired for sound! You might know, a new tenant has moved into our complex recently. He's a Blue-fronted Amazon named Malachi. I wrote how he terrorized the birdsitters a few months back. Anyway, he has taken up residence with us. Samson (Amazon) thinks he's in love, and both of them chatter in Amazon language, which is more than I can say for Goliath. He is still his usual LOUD self. Malachi loves to sing and is teaching Samson and Mort to do the same. Samson has promise. He tries so hard to please Malachi. But Mort, that's a whole different story. His singing is so bad that even Mother tells him to be quiet. He sounds like something from the Exorcist.
I should sign off for now. Keep those letters coming! I look forward to seeing each and every one of you at my seminar next week!
Happy New Year to all my bird fans! I trust you received everything you asked for this past Christmas. You are probably wondering what a little bird like me would want for Christmas. Well, what I wanted and want I got are two completely different stories. So, let me begin. First of all, I got a cactus perch for Christmas. It wasn't on the top of my wish list, but I must say I really did miss having one in my cage. The last cactus perch I had, Mother confiscated after catching me stuffing it with food for later retrieval. Hey, you never know when the Midnight Munchies are going to strike! Anyway, when she found out what I was doing, she pitched it in the garbage. Thanks to the vet, Mother was told to get me some different size and textured perches because I have sore feet. You know, I have to stand all day. I don't have a chance to sit down and relax. What's a bird to do?
That brings me to an item that I really wanted, but didn't get -- a lounge chair. I could just picture myself in a small easy chair relaxing, watching a small color TV with remote control. I could kick back and blast the TV especially when I want to ignore Mother. Actually, I got the idea from her. Everyday at 5 pm, she watches the news. Everyday at 5 pm, we all start yelling and screaming. Everyday at 5 pm, the TV gets louder and louder. And, everyday at 6 pm, guess who has a headache?
Speaking of Mother, I thought she behaved herself quite well it my seminar, although I did catch her making a few faces at the audience. I am so glad she didn't win the presidency! For heaven sake, I would have ended up working my tail off trying to keep her in line. I have a full head of grey feathers already without ending up tail-less to boot.
Someone asked me if I got Birdie Muzzles for Christmas. No, I didn't receive a single one. So, it's another year of SCREAMING MIMI'S. I might be better off asking for ear plugs next year! The way those Caiques carry on, you'd think alien snakes were spawning under the cage grate! Another thing I didn't get was a small pliers. Notice everything I ask for is small. I'm not asking for anything big! I wanted the pliers so I could get rid of that awful water bottle once and for all. I refuse to drink out of it! The other day, I made whole wheat dumplings in my water bowl and then took a quick bath in it. Believe me, it was so refreshing! I can't understand why Mother insisted on chasing me out of the tub and changed the water on me! She has no sense of humor! One thing I did get for Christmas was a toy -- a Zac Tower. I love to destroy that toy. Mother said I could have as many of them as I wanted. So, I'm taking her up on that. I want 365 Zac Towers. One for each day of the year.
Actually, each of us got a new Zac Squiggle toy and an extra treat to eat on Christmas day. Mother also let us watch a wild bird video. Of course, she screened it beforehand. She didn't want Mort (Grey) to learn any new annoying sounds. Lately, Mort's been pretty good, except he insists on feeding the dirt devil. I think he feels sorry for it. He's constantly throwing food on the floor and saying, "One for the dirt devil."
Well, it's time for me to go to bed. Keep those letters coming!
Hello Parrot Friends! I hope this column finds you in a good mood because I'm not a happy camper these days. I happened to find the December newsletter and I noticed the cover. What is Jesse, the raging hormone queen, doing on the cover? I should be on it. After all, I'm the one who is famous!
Here's a letter I received from Corkey the Caique:
Hello Zac, I read your column faithfully every month and I thoroughly enjoy all of your birdie insights. The only thing I don't agree with is your view about us Caiques. I happen to be a very quiet Caique, but I make up for it with mischievousness. Anyway, as far as getting into trouble, I can do about as much damage as you and your two Caiques, Sassy and Brat, put together. Here is my problem. My mom insists on giving me a bath every day when she comes home for lunch. She drenches me in the shower, which I hate! I am big enough to take my own bath! What's a bird to do?
Dear Corkey, It's nice to hear from a quiet Caique. It's just my luck Mother ended up with a bad batch of Caiques. What else is new!
As far as your bath dilemma, I certainly can relate to your shower experience. Mother used to put us in the shower on a stand and then without warning, a contraption that looks like a cobra snake, began spewing out water. It was a nightmare. I simply hate snakes, and this monster was ugly and huge! I saw that hideous thing coming and I took off flying as fast as my little wings could carry me. Mother now uses a water bottle to squirt us. It is not as threatening, but personally, I enjoy taking a bath in my water bowl. In fact, all us Senegals prefer the water bowl. My suggestion to you is to surprise your mom by taking your own bath before she comes home for lunch. Here's what you do. When she leaves for work, you begin throwing colored food in your water bowl. Then add some colored wood or colored leather and let it soak in your bowl until you get a color that your mom would appreciate. I suggest purple, pink, royal blue, etc. Those colors would make your white vest look ravishing. Your mom would be so surprised when she goes to say hello to you. Honestly, it would probably take her breath away! How do I know this? First, I'm Zac and I know just about everything. Second, I gave that advice to Sassy and Brat. They immediately took the advice, brewed up a batch of some wicked colors, and practically gave Mother a heart attack! She had one aquamarine Brat and one fuchsia Sassy. The colors had to wear off! Mother now lets Sassy and Brat take their own baths, but they are strictly supervised. So good luck, Corkey and Happy Bathing!
Well, I should sign off for now. Keep those letters coming. Write me, Zac Squiggles C/O The Real Macaw Parrot Club. I love hearing from my fans! Bye for now......
Hey, all you birds out there, guess what I got for Valentine's Day? Nothing! I honestly expected Mother would buy me a Miss Squiggles. But no, she completely ignored my "hinting" antics. Sitting on the cereal "Kixs" only gave me a sore behind. Sitting on chick peas messed up my gorgeous feathers. Sitting on the cage grate is boring and sitting in the pellet bowl is down right uncomfortable! I never realized those late night munchies had caught up with me. I guess what they say is true -- a moment on the beak, forever on the seat!
This month, I would like to share a common irritation with you. It's probably one irritation that many of you birds can identify with -- nosy neighbors! There are times I regret ever chewing that magnificent picture window in the side of my cage cover. You see, I live next to Mr. Sticky Beak himself, old man Mort. He's almost all gray except for that red tail of his. He's forever sticking that big beak of his in my business. He gets up on top of his cage and puts his beak right in my window and harasses me. He calls me names like "You little stinkweed," "Little pesterpot," "Wingnut," or "Pain in the butt." It's times like these that I'd like to draw the curtains, but there are no curtains to draw, since I ate them.
Mort is a character. He talks from morning until night. I couldn't get a word in sledgewise even if I wanted to! The only time he shuts that beak of his is when he's eating, sleeping, or when company comes to visit us. Now, he does make exceptions for certain people. A few weeks ago, when it was below zero outside, he informed Arlene Jacobs, "It's very cold out."
Never a day goes by without a huge traffic jam taking place in the bird room. It usually takes place when Mother is resting. First, there's a series of car horns of various decibels, which Mort initiates and the other birds chime in. After Mort has successfully gotten all the birds involved in the honking game, he becomes the parrot police directing traffic and yelling, "Get out of the road," "Watch out for the car," "Drop the gun," or "Get over here."
When that game gets old, there is time to sing and chant. The Amazons just love it, but unfortunately, Mort can't carry a tune in a bucket, so he gets drowned out.
Then it's time for the weather report. "It's hot out," "It's cold out," "It's raining out," or "It's snowing out." Then, of course, there's the inner atmosphere report. "It's hot in here," "It's cold in here," "Turn on the light, it's dark in here."
Then there are the endless commands such as, "What are you doing in there?" "Get out of there," "Stop that!" "Be quiet!" "That's dirty, don't eat that!" "Water!" "Bread!" "Diana, get in here!"
Oh, I must not leave out those various, impressions: the phone, doorbell, microwave, a duck, an owl and a pig. He squeals like a pig when he gets his bath, which he hates!!
I'm telling you, I don't get a moment's rest!! Well, I should sign off for now. Oh no, there's that pesky bird peeking in my cage again!! I've had it!! Where's my garden hose????????
Greetings to all my parrot friends and humans! I get to watch a lot of TV here. I notice that there are so many commercials for human products. It makes me so mad, I want to spit seeds. Honestly, the junk humans will buy is outrageous! There's stuff to make your hair grow, stuff to get rid of hair, stuff to get rid of wrinkles, stuff to make you look younger, stuff to make you look better, stuff to make your hair curly, stuff to make your hair straight, stuff for whatever ails you. Why don't we parrots have commercials for products we are interested in? For instance, how about stuff to condition our beaks and feathers? Recently, I began to ponder that thought and I had a brilliant idea. Mother had just given me a whole wheat bread stick. I decided I was going to give myself a mud facial. I took the bread stick and let it soak in my water bowl until it was well done. Then, I proceeded to rub it on my head and face. It was so refreshing letting the mixture soak into my pores and revitalize my feathers. I had not a worry in the world as I relaxed and let the mixture dry. Everyone was taking their afternoon nap including those darn Caiques. Even Mr. Sticky Beak himself was taking a snooze and was missing a golden opportunity to tattle on me! Mother was in the back room reading. Things could not have been better, until Mother decided to walk through the bird room She caught sight of me out of the corner of her eye. For heaven sake, she acted as though she saw the creature from the black lagoon! She insisted on giving me a bath. I insisted I was not ready for a bath. she said I looked like I was wearing a tribal mask with horns and even the creature from the black lagoon would have nightmares if he saw me. She grabbed me, but not without a fight. I kicked and screamed, but to no avail. I hate when she gives me baths. But she's much bigger than me, so I ended up in the kitchen sink soaking until my plaster of paris mask pealed off. I'm telling you, some humans know how to ruin a perfectly good day !!!!!!!!!!!!!
Word on the perch is those dreaded hormones are back! In fact, the Amazons acquired double portions. Mother has to be careful not to get too close to Malachi's cage. He thinks Mother is hot stuff and begins doing the doodledoo dance, quacking like a duck, and twirling his tail like a helicopter. I'm surprised he doesn't throw his butt out of whack!
Mort is up to his usual no good antics. Every morning when Mother puts food in his dishes, his new expression is, "Umm, tastes just like chicken!" Little cannibal! On second thought, the way Mother cooks, she could use all the compliments she can get!
Well, I should sign off for now. Keep those letters coming!
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