Observations And Happenings In My Bird Room
The stories below came about after reading a series of 20–word stories penned by Susan Wheelock on marriage.
Max plucks a loose feather, clutches it in one foot, and scratches her head and neck, switching feet as needed.
J.R. Spiers found an article noting that parrots are lefties, and my birds prefer their left foot for holding objects.
When my birds' quarrel, they attack each other’s vulnerable feet, or the soft spot on their opponent’s head, drawing blood.
Bird sex, be it male with female, two males, or a handy piece of knotted rope to rub, is constant.
Always hopeful, for years, Mel and Paul have produced a clutch of eggs, and thankfully they have always been infertile.
Max loves lettuce but it must be a piece with a long red stem to clutch and chew to shreds.
When smaller birds annoy Ziggy, he will try to grab them by a wing and hurl them to the floor.
The two parakeets are my aerial acrobats, zooming, darting, buzzing, executing rolls, and hovering like hummingbirds in mid-air.
I freeze in place, fearful of harming them when the cockatiels gather at my feet to play with sneaker laces.
Below is Susan Wheelock’s delightful story on marriage and the catalyst for my own attempt.