jmgoyder

wings and things

It’s not Buttons

Husband is home from the nursing lodge for the weekend because yesterday was his birthday. As he loved Buttons, I decided to buy him another weiro for his birthday present and he was delighted. I chose the only one that resembled Buttons, the difference being that this one has not been hand-raised. As it turns out, this is a significant difference!

Just in case you think the idea of replacing Buttons is a bit ‘off’, I did not make this decision lightly as my grief over losing Buttons still sits like a clenched claw in my chest. I guess I just felt that getting another weiro would be good for all of us – Husband, Son and me – and the weiro too. I hope so. Now I just have to tame him!

I don’t want to name this little bird Buttons because, despite the resemblance, he is very unButtonsish – slimmer, paler, louder (he has a beautiful soaring whistle) and, again, not hand-raised. According to all the information I’ve read, taming him will take a lot of time, patience and human proximity. I can do that.

So the next picture of It’s-not-Buttons (still can’t think of a name – any suggestions?) will be minus the cage. I can’t wait!

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Buttons is dead

Son and I just got home (it’s nearly 6pm in Western Australia) from our second day of medical appointments in Perth, to find Buttons, the weiro, dead in the toilet. As Buttons has always had plenty of water, he has never ventured into this tiny room at the end of the enclosed veranda before (the door to which is usually shut anyway – oh why did I leave it open today?)

I should have put him in his cage for the day. I should have closed the door to this little bathroom he’s never ventured into. I’m an idiot and absolutely grief-stricken by the loss of this tiniest of all our birds – but a bird with the biggest personality.

This is one of the hardest things about having birds, watching birds and loving birds – the inevitability of loss, because of their vulnerability and unpredictability. I am beginning to wonder how, and why, the incredible (and mutual) joy of the birds has been punctuated by grief over and over again for me, for us.

Yesterday and today, Son and I learned some scary things about his scoliosis surgery on the 14th. The nurse, physiotherapist, doctor, aneasthetist, respiratory specialist, radiologist etc. etc. filled us in on some of the minor details the surgeon hadn’t mentioned. For example, he will need bone from the bone bank, blood from the blood bank, his 74% curve can’t be surgically corrected to equal perfectly straight, the pain will be severe for two or three days, he might have to go into another hospital for rehab., there is a slight risk of paralysis etc. etc. All of this is fine with Son who can’t wait to be straightened but, for me, the fear lurks behind the anticipation of Son being ‘fixed’.

Son just rang Husband in the nursing lodge to tell him about our appointments today, and about Buttons.

I am going outside to put the gang away.

 

 

 

 

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Zoom zoom zoom

I’ve found the ‘zoom’ function on my new camera!

Husband named our weiro, ‘Buttons’ but Buttons doesn’t seem to be able to wrap his beak around this word, so I have decided to rename him ‘Zoomy’  because he does zoom around the veranda a lot and I think this is an easier word for him to mimic. And it’s appropriate because he doesn’t just fly gently onto my shoulder; he zooms at me, like an arrow, and usually collides BANG with my face, which he likes to nibble (maybe I should rename him ‘Cannibal’).

Aren’t weiros supposed to talk? All Buttons/Zoomy/Cannibal seems to be able to emit is a very LOUD wolf whistle – you know, the kind of whistle that attractive women attract from unattractive men working on top of buildings. Well, not always – sometimes it’s a bit of a vice versa thing.

Anyway Zoomy came to us, hand-reared, tame and wolf-whistley (I was not warned about the latter), so we have had to accept his flirtatiousness. He even kisses me on the lips when I am not expecting it and, as bird kisses are rather sharp, this can be a little disconcerting, and painful. But when I steer his beak away from my face and fling him place him gently back onto my shoulder, Zoomy/Cannibal then attacks my ear.

I think, because I have been preoccupied with the zoom function on my camera, one of Buttons’ new names is a partly a word association side-effect? I just cannot decide which name is the best: Buttons, Zoomy or Cannibal. So far, he is responding to all three names so perhaps I’ll just do that. After all, he is a mixture – ‘Buttons’ is his gentle self; ‘Zoomy’ is his speed-of-light self; and ‘Cannibal’ is his aggressive, face-eating self.

Any suggestions?

I love this zoom thing!

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Birdplay

I love watching the birds at play. Even though they spend most of their time pecking around for food – grass, grubs and so on, each breed has its own version of fun:

The guinnea fowl love to dig themselves into any grassless patches and roll around in the dirt. They have also formed a choir and their performances are frequent (about once every hour or so). Their music is a bit of an acquired taste which visitors often refer to as ‘noise’ but we are used to its strange echoes.

The peacocks, of course, love to dance the ‘fantail’. Now, even though it’s only the males who do this, the females find it enormously entertaining (occasionally!) They also play a game called ‘scare-the-hell-out-of-Julie’ which consists of blood-curdling screams which never fail to stop me in my tracks, as they are so piercing.

The chooks love to play hide and seek in amongst the bits and pieces of farm debris. The hens are particularly good at hiding which is probably because they don’t like the roosters’ idea of play which I think is better left undescribed here.

The turkeys love a game called ‘peck-the-duck-until-it-wakes-up’. Even though the following picture is of one of the Bubbles (turkey) and Tapper (duck) when they were young, they still play this game with varying degrees of success.

The golden pheasants used to play a war game that turned out to be not a game at all but a war, with the loser banished to an adjacent property and the winner remaining here, victorious and splendid. And lonely. War games are no longer encouraged here.

The Indian runner ducks love to run around, pretending to be fast and, yes, before they met the emus, they thought they were fast. Unfortunately for the Indian runners, most of the timed races have been won by the Emerys, but the ducks are very dignified losers. The Emerys do concede, however, that they have the distinct advantage of loooooooooooooonger legs!

The best game of all here is waterplay and, since the following photo was taken, we have added a pond so that it isn’t just Godfrey who gets to play.

Oh, I nearly forgot – Buttons, the weiro, likes to boogie on my shoulder. He seems to be able to turn his head all the way around, then does this nodding thing really fast, then he shakes himself, then the whole dance move repeats itself. Since he is on my shoulder more than he is off my shoulder lately, this means that I am constantly covered in a sprinkling of tiny feathers that look like dandruff, as well as, you know, weiro waste (the excitement of the boogie seems to affect his little bowel – oh well!)

The following youtube of a crow snowboarding is accompanied by a rather serious little article about whether birds like to play in the same way humans do. I don’t think it matters.

http://blogs.scientificamerican.com/thoughtful-animal/2012/01/16/snowboarding-crows-the-plot-thickens/

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Waste not, want not

The other day, when I was taking the emus for a walk around and around and around the garden (a previous post describes this marathon!) one of them spied a bottle cap in the grass and promptly gulped it down before I could stop him.

Let me explain: usually our lawn is not strewn with bottle caps, however, having cleaned up after Son’s 18th birthday party, I had missed several of these, some of which had been thrown into bushes or potplants.

Anyway, I was alarmed as, one by one, all of the emus found and swallowed a bottle cap each as if they were on a treasure hunt. They kept hunting for more as if bottle caps were some sort of rare delicacy. I wrestled a couple of these sharp metal caps out of sharp beaks and then got down on my hands and knees and quickly picked up the remainder. When I did this, the Emerys all stood back and watched me as if they thought I was trying to be one of them. The cheekiest one kept trying to grab the caps out of my hand!

There is a lesson here: birds like shiny objects and are attracted to aluminium, plastic, glass, jewelry and anything reflective, so you have to be very careful. Since the bottle cap incident I have been terribly worried that one or all of the Emerys might get sick, but so far so good. I have been giving them plenty of cabbage to make sure! Hopefully the cabbage will provide the roughage required to eradicate the bottle caps (I will not go into detail here about my search for digested bottle caps!)

This has made me realize, too, how the littering around the countryside is probably killing some of the wild birds. We live on a very short road and yet, last week, Son and I collected a garbage bagful of cans, bottles and plastic bags (some empty, some full) that had been dumped here and there on the sides of this road. This probably happens in every country’s countryside – awful.

Other recent realizations:

  • Weiros like cardboard. Buttons has now chewed through nearly a whole pizza box. Yeah, he wasn’t interested in the leftover pizza at all, only the boxes. He is getting fat! Don’t worry, we have now taken the rest of the pizza boxes to the local dump.

  • Red-tailed black cockatoos like anything and everything chewable. Wantok particularly enjoyed power cords, furniture, Abs exercise machines and, before we set her free, human fingers and especially thumbs! I imagine that, by now, she will have eaten a good part of the forest in the hills! Any cockatoo who can eat a wooden chair in one sitting, can eat a tree or two easily! I don’t miss the furniture, which was old anyway, but I do miss Wantok!

I miss a lot of things….

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Weiro warrior

Buttons, the weiro, gets so furious if I don’t pay him enough attention that I am beginning to think I might need to invest in some sort of protective helmet.

Today, for instance, was a very busy day and, after letting him out of his cage this morning, I didn’t see him until this evening and he flew straight to my shoulder and started pecking angrily at my face, ears, head, neck and fingers. When he’s mad, he makes this miniature screeching noise which sounds a bit like radio static – not very pleasant.

It’s okay now. He’s calmed down and is settled into my neck, preening himself and making unscreechy noises – little chirps and whistles – and nuzzling in. In a moment he will probably do the eye kiss thing, after which I will put him to bed in his cage, which he hates to begin with, then almost immediately falls asleep (I know because I’ve had a peek).

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Button up, Buttons!

Buttons, our little weiro, has, I’ve discovered, a complete inability to read mood. Today, which is a sad, quiet day due to circumstance you are probably sick of hearing about (which is why I’m not mentioning them), has been filled with the sounds of Buttons singing, chirping and whistling joyfully. She has been doing so since around 5am – loudly!

At 6am, I came out to the veranda and said sternly, “Buttons, will you please shut up – I’m trying to have a sleep in.” Then I went back to bed and there were a few blissful minutes of silence before her singing whirled through the house again. She is the smallest, by far, of any of our birds but definitely the loudest, even louder than the peacocks, guinnea fowl and roosters put together. How such volume of sound can come out of such a tiny creature amazes me.

This is what she looks like just after I tell her to shut up.

She doesn’t look the least bit hurt or perturbed, does she; the expression on her face (yes, I am getting better at interpreting this!) shows that, as soon as I walk away, she will once again open her little beak and emit yet another operatic sequence.

LOUDLY!

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Leftovers

What I mean by ‘leftovers’ here consists of the things I have forgotten to mention in previous posts –  for example:

1. Many of the photos I now use, to accompany my little stories, were taken randomly before I even knew what a blog was.

2. None of the photos I’ve taken since I started this blog have been ‘staged’; even the Ouch post was a spontaneous series of photos.

3. I am trying to take better photos with my new camera but I don’t seem to have the visual instinct required – will keep trying!

4. Weiros grind their teeth/beaks and I mean GRIND! Buttons is on my shoulder doing it now and it’s actually quite noisy and annoying!

5. Argh – Wantok is doing it now – that GRINDING thing! She does it quite loudly too.

6. I think Buttons might be a boy because apparently her/his big, round, orange cheeks indicate maleness and might explain why he is so enamoured of me (his beak under my chin right now, left eye curved up to meet mine, lots of snuggling).

7. Despite Son’s reluctance to embrace the ‘bird thing’, as he calls it, he and Wantok are so infatuated with each other that I feel a bit left out!

8. I am meticulous about grammar so sometimes I go back and edit past posts for posterity. I’m not sure if this is normal, but who cares. On the other hand, does anyone else do this?

9. WordPress is incredible in many ways but there are definitely a few glitches and I seem to keep falling into ALL of them!

10. Even though I am not lonely, or isolated, it is great to be meeting other bloggers who are wiser than I am.

11. This 11 is just to break up 10’s domination and just to say that, even though I said at the outset that there would be a photo with every post, it’s not always possible.

12. Husband comes home from hospital on Friday – yeeha!

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Ouch!

Wantok: Wow, Buttons, I’ve never done this before. How do you keep your balance?

Buttons: Just dig your claws in. That’s what I do.

Wantok: Oh, okay.

Button: Is that better?

Wantok: Much better, although he just made an ‘ouch’  noise.

Buttons: Oh don’t worry about that. You probably hurt him a bit. They have really thin skin, these humans.

Wantok: Yeah, this one has an enormous head too. I can’t even see you over there. Wait, I’ll just change my position a bit.

Son: OUCH!

Wantok: Whoops, I think I hurt him again. What should I do? I feel awful.

Buttons: He’ll be all right. Just give him a little kiss. He quite likes that.

Wantok: Oh, okay. Good idea.

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Eye kisses

Buttons (our weiro) and I just watched the following youtube of Snoopy and Woodstock, then we looked at each other, amazed. I could see her thinking – yes thinking – ‘wow, that’s just like us!’ Buttons definitely had an expression of incredulity in her eyes.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iTssF_NYusQ

Speaking of eyes, after watching the clip, she did this eye kiss thing with me; she puts her face up against mine, then stretches up until her eyes and mine are almost touching, then she sort of brushes my eyelashes with her little beak very gently. The first time she did this was a bit nerve-wracking because, even though it’s just a little beak, it’s still a beak!

Every morning, Buttons lets out a kind of wolf whistle sound until I open her cage and let her out. Then she does exactly what Woodstock does in the youtube; she flies to me, sometimes miscalculating the distance between her cage, at one end of the veranda, and my office, which is at the other end, and crash lands here and there en route. She’s getting really good at it now though – often she makes it all the way to my shoulder.

Like Snoopy, I sometimes tire of her attention – and the constant eye kisses – and put her back on top of her cage but she keeps coming back! Here she is sitting just outside my office, waiting for me to call her!

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