I can never thank my
great-aunt Ricci enough for giving me "Freebee",
the light of my life. I'm 31 and single, and living alone could be
very dull and boring if I didn't have my Quaker Parakeet to keep
me entertained.
I named him Freebee when she gave him to me
in 1985--both because he was free, not purchased, and because
he likes to be free to fly or walk around the house. I never
knew a bird could be so amusing and affectionate; I thought
pet birds basically sat prettily in their cages in some
corner and chirped or sang occasionally or squawked
irritatingly. But my hand-fed baby (from a wild flock in the
Longboat Key are of Florida) has a wide vocabulary and an
endless routine of hilarious, playful antics; he imitates
countless sounds and whistles "Yankee Doodle
Dandy," even though he can't carry a tune in a bucket!
Some of his favorite phrases from his
vocabulary are "Here, kitty, kitty, kitty,
kitty...meow", the "Beep-beep-beep" sound my
alarm clock makes, "Want some coffee, huh?",
"Tickle, tickle", "Shhhhh, be quiet",
"Oh, shut up!", "Talk to me", "Come
'ere, gimme a kiss", and "What are you doin',
huh?" If we are playing and he bites me and I say
"Ouch!", he'll say "Ouch! Don't bite! Be
nice!"
I know when he really likes a certain food
because after the very first bite--without any prompting--he
says, "Ummmmm, yum-yum" or just "Ummmmm"
between bites. The most recent food he received so favorably
was a slice of juicy kiwi fruit.
When Freebee tires of playing in his own room
(outfitted with 2 cages, a large wooden spool with a bird
bath and a spacious carpeted play area), he comes waddling
through my apartment to find me. If I'm on the couch, he
climbs up the side and begins to play with me or to just site
contentedly on my shoulder, preening, himself or me. If I'm
eating or drinking, he finds me in the kitchen and
investigates what I'm drinking and insists on sharing my
food.
I love to watch him cross the carpet. He
quickly goes sideways, then backward, then sideways, then
backward. I guess he does this because maybe his toenails get
caught in the carpet too easily going forward; he walks
directly to me when he's on vinyl tile.
When I can find nothing interesting on TV to
watch (which seems to happen more and more often), I watch
Freebee play with his toys or offer him a new one. I really get a kick out the way he walks up to something and raises his
foot, then stands there and scratches the item repeatedly for
several seconds (or minutes, if he likes the sound), cocking
his head to one side.
Sometimes he'll play like a puppy: He'll grab
a toy and shake the living daylights out of it, toss it into
the air, then chase it and do it all again, or he'll pick it
up and tap-tap-tap it on the floor or beat it on the side of
his cage. He's very athletic and acrobatic. He can carry
quite a large toy up a five-step-ladder, across the spool, up
another ladder, across cage No. 1 and up into cage No. 2, his
home.
Some of his favorite toys include an empty
juice can (which makes great noises when he drops it on the
floor, rolls it around or scratches it with his foot or
beak), a small measuring cup, and instant coffee measure,
clothespins, a Christmas bell, small shells from the beach,,
a ball with a bell in it, an old ring, coins, a small
stainless steel spatula, a plastic spool from gift-wrap
ribbon, the cap off a dish soap bottle (well rinsed), the
metal cap off a juice bottle, and occasionally a sheet of
paper or piece of toilet paper or tissue, which he makes a
wonderful mess with--loving every minute of it.
Freebee also has manners. Sometimes he lets
me know when he's left a present on the floor by piping up
with a crisp, clear, "Yuuuuk! Dirty Bird! Yuuuuk!"
Then I go find him, wherever he may be, and clean it up.
This feisty bird is also gentle and
affectionate. He'll make soft little clucking sounds and rub
his face tenderly on my cheek or chin and make little
preening motions with his beak, sometimes saying "Awww,
such....(a good bird)" as he ever so gently tries to
clean the mascara off my eyelashes.
In the last 6 months, I've noticed 2
different classifieds ads in my local newspaper for Quaker
parakeets that include the words, "needs
attention." I wish I could call the discouraged bird
owners and say, "Don't give up on your Quaker. Just
teach him to play!"
I have a 10-month-old Quaker who spent the
first few months of his life as someone else's pet. When
Mikey first moved in, he did "need attention". He
squawked constantly and acted anxious for human companionship
--but only because he didn't know how to entertain himself.
Following the advice of an article in a magazine, I bought
Mikey some toys. He's usually interested in a new toy, but if
he's not at first, I drag it in front of him until he starts
chasing it, sort of how one would get a kitten interested in
a toy. I rotate his toys every few days, putting away the
ones he doesn't use. When I bring them out again, he's ready
to play and happily attacks the "new" toys.
Now when we're not playing with Mikey, his is
on his cage, thoroughly engrossed in ringing a bell or
wrestling with a toy. We also have bird-call tapes that he
and the parakeet chirp along with happily. Other times when
Mikey is sitting by himself, he'll run through his repertoire
of monkey noises, bird calls, and words: "Hello, Mikey.
Hello, Mikey. Mikey, Mikey, Mikey!" and lately,
"Here, boy! Come here, boy!" (We think his previous
owners had a dog, since Mikey also whines like a puppy.) He's
a happy bird by himself and still loves attention from
humans.
