arrot owners have known for a long time what animal-intelligence researchers are only now discovering: Parrots may not be simply repeating what they have been conditioned to say; many of these birds actually understand what they are saying. Some scholars are now suggesting that parrots are perhaps the most intelligent of all birds, and probably rank very high upon the scale of animal intelligence, perhaps ahead of such animals as dogs. Animal lovers who keep both parrots and dogs have no trouble believing this to be true.

It is their incredible intelligence that makes caretaking a parrot such a marvelous experience… and/or sometimes a nightmare.

When you bring a parrot into your home, it is not at all like bringing in a puppy or kitten. Cats, of course, are solitary creatures who quickly develop their own self-sufficient independence, if not actual aloofness. Dogs typically happily accept their role as a loved, but decidedly subordinate, member of the family pack. The parrot, however, seeks neither independence or subordination… but rather full-fledged membership in the family flock, as an equal.

In the wild, parrots usually live in large, egalitarian communities. They are extremely social animals. They typically bond very tightly with other individuals… and as a pet they will willingly and happily accept a human as their “partner”. This, of course, is far different than a cat accepting a human as its provider, or a dog accepting a human as its master. And thus, the parrot requires a totally different approach and a fine-tuned understanding. The parrot who does not receive this approach and understanding can rapidly turn into the “parrot from Hell.”

It should be obvious by now that parrot ownership should be entered into very judiciously, and not at all by many would-be keepers. The individual who does not have the time, energy, patience, facilities and personality to deal with parrots should not have one. Plus, one should have a complete fascination with and love for parrots for the relationship to truly soar.

There are hundreds of different kinds of parrots — from the tiny parrotlets to the magnificent macaws (the largest bird anyone should own). Yet every parrot is a clever, resourceful and sensitive creature that will crave stimulation and attention. Parrots are not finches or canaries that can be left alone in a cage all day. They are not a pet to be fed and forgotten. They require far more attention than even dogs. Indeed, a parrot should really be considered more of a roommate than a pet.

Unfortunately, parrots are messier than even the most messy roommates. They also are louder; in fact there are jackhammers quieter than a few parrot species. Some bite with the force of pliers… sharp pliers. And they are capable of destruction that a demolition crew would admire. Add to these attributes the precociousness of, say, a two-year-old child, and one can imagine the complexity and potential chaos of having a parrot around.

Another thing to carefully consider is the longevity of parrots. A pet hamster lasts a couple of years; a dog maybe 15 or so. With some species of parrot, it is likelier that it will attend your funeral than you will mourn it.

One final aspect of parrot-keeping may be the most horrific of all. Yes, we are talking about “aviholism.” This dreaded disease affects many, if not most, people who acquire a parrot. A 13-step program has been established to help treat the thousands upon thousands of unfortunate souls who have gotten themselves tangled in the powerful hold of this malady. What is “aviholism”? Simply, the compulsion to acquire more and more parrots. An aviholic figures, “one is good, eight would be much better.” Soon their entire life is awash in feathers, seeds and parrot poop… and they think this is just GREAT! Whatever you do, don’t let this happen to you.

So parrot keeping should be entered into very soberly and as a lifelong commitment… or perhaps not at all. Are we trying to scare you off? Sure. Better that you never acquire a parrot, than get one only to get rid of it a short time later. And make no mistake about it — parrots are probably passed along from owner to owner more than any other type of pet. Then there is that “aviholism” situation. We certainly do not want to encourage innocent people to walk into the jaws of such a potential trap.

So, with all of the drawbacks to parrots, exactly what is the big attraction? Ah, that you will just have to find out for yourself with a bit of study and the sincere desire to know the secrets of the world’s best pet. You will find that the dedicated parrot person cannot envision life without their beloved birds. Parrots’ childlike quality, their intelligence, their quirky, hilarious mannerisms, their endearing jabber, their unsurpassed beauty, their complete devotion to their human friends render parrots the most magical of all creatures willing to share their lives with the right person. The question isn’t whether parrots are right for you, it is whether you are right for parrots.

At 7:18 AM the sun has already come up for the day. Sampson is awake and walks over and presses a button to turn on a florescent light to start his day. He begins to eat and has a little bit to drink. Five minutes later he presses another button and turns on the radio. He sits back and plays for a little while until David comes downstairs to greet him.

The previous description might sound the average persons routine, but in reality it is what my sulphur crested too Sampson does in the morning. It is he who turns on the light and the radio through small switches located in his cage.

I always wonder what makes my bird happy. Would he like the light turned on? Would he like some music? Would he prefer less light and silence? I am only looking out for him and trying my best to please him. That’s how I came up with this system. I asked myself “If the bird had the choice, what would he do?”

“I’m buying a computer for the bird”

You should have seen the look on my wife’s face when I said that sentence. “Even I don’t have a computer to use” she replied.

“You will get the next one. I promise.” I said. Her eyebrow raised suspiciously as she left the room.

I went down to the local surplus electronics store. I found an old (very old) computer. An IBM XT. 640K of memory. 20 Megabyte hard drive. Black and white monitor. Asking price $60. I managed to talk the guy down to $40. When I left the store the salesman and I were both smiling as if we both had just ripped off someone who didn’t know any better. I was glad to have it. He was glad to see it go. I also bought a few switches. Sliding switches, light switches, button switches. I just grabbed an assortment hoping the bird would be able to operate one of them.

“What did I get myself into?”

When I got the assortment home I knew this was not going to be easy. I had never done anything like this before. I didn’t know much about electronics. I would have to write a computer program, something I really hadn’t done since high school computer class.

I mounted all the switches on a piece of plexiglass and let Sampson play with them for a while.

My next move was to get some answers. I turned on MY computer and connected to the Internet. I searched all over for information about how to program your computer to turn on a light. I didn’t find anything specific on how to do it, but plenty of places were selling products to control lights in your home for hundreds of dollars. I thought I had already put out my $40 and hoped to keep this experiment cheap. Fortunately I found some articles that lead me on the right path.

Not knowing much on programming, I decided to stick with BASIC. Within a few hours I was able to send a message to turn on a light! Wow, was I excited. I was on the right track.

Back in the cage Sampson had destroyed every switch except one. This was a little switch called a microswitch.

I held the switch up to Sampson. He held the end in his beak and clicked the switch up and down. We had our winner! However, as any cockatoo owner knows, nothing is indestructible to a busy beak. I grabbed some old particle board and sealed up everything around the switch so that only a little lever sticks out of a big block of wood. Wires that came off the switch were placed in plexiglass tubing that ran down the side of the cage. I did the same with the second switch.

“Safety first”

Having Sampson control 120 Volt appliances was a scary thought. With the computer controlling the system, I had nothing to worry about. The 120 Volt wires stay well out of the birds reach and are not even near the cage. There are only three wires in the bird cage sealed in a heavy plexiglass tube. If the bird was able to bite through he would find that two wires have no current in them. The third wire has 4 volts DC. That is about the same as the two small batteries that are in your TV remote control.

“The big programming job”

If the computer understood English, I wanted to say to it “When Sampson pushes the top switch, turn the light off or on. When Sampson presses the bottom switch, turn the radio off or on. And keep a log of everything he does.” Unfortunately the computer isn’t as easy to speak to. However, I did remember a few things from high school. I also typed in the help command every few minutes. Before I knew it, I could press either switch in Sampson’s cage and the light and radio would turn off and on.

“Sampson sees the switches in his cage… A new toy to destroy?”

When I had everything connected up to his cage Sampson, with his infinite curiosity ,walked up to the switch. As he hit the top switch he jumped back and hissed as a light near the cage went on. He hit the switch again and the light went out. Another hiss at the light. He presses the switch a number of times and light flashes off and on. Then Sampson gets this look – he stares at the switch – cocks his head towards the light – and then back to the switch. A moment of insight? It was at that point I could have sworn Sampson was saying to himself “Aaah… I see how that works.”

“Living with the appliances”

The bird is no longer surprised when the light or radio comes on. In fact he is surprised if it doesn’t. I was hoping a predictable pattern would emerge. But nothing yet. The logs show he uses the switches at 10AM, 4PM, and 9PM most. Sometimes he only turns the radio or light on once and leaves it on for the full day. Sometimes he turns them off and on for minutes or hours at a time. One day he pressed the switches 1200 times. But normally he turns the light on and off twice a day. The same applies to the radio. It is very interesting to see Sampson’s behavior. The computer logs the date and time of each press of the switch, and also tells me if he turned the radio or light off or on. I can then take that data and move it to a spreadsheet and see the trends in his behavior.

“The future”

I keep asking myself “What would the bird like to control?” In the upcoming months the bird will have an electronic dispenser for his food and water. In addition my last trip to the produce section at the grocery store inspired me to add a switch that will allow the bird to give himself a “shower.” I don’t exactly know how to set this up, but I will work on it.

“The bottom line”

All in all, I spent $40 on the computer, $3 on switches, $15 on two relays, and used about 50¢ worth of wire. Even though I had never done anything like this before, I was shocked at how easy it was. But most importantly I had given Sampson more choices, more control over his environment. And in the process I hope I have made him a happier bird.

Cockatiels come in many different color mutations. The normal (gray) is very common but lutinos, pieds and whitefaces are also seen quite often. Albinos, cinnamons and pearls are some of the other varieties. Where the normal has an orange cheek patch and a yellow crest, the whiteface has a white cheek patch and a white crest. Cockatiels often raise their crests when they are excited, which adds about an inch to their 12- to 14-inch long bodies.

The toco (Ramphastos toco) is distinguished by its black body, white bib and bright blue eye ring. The bill is predominantly golden orange with a large black spot at the end. The toco is approximately 22 inches long with a 10-inch-long bill. This is the most popular of the toucans.

The red bill (R. tucanus), approximately 20 inches long, is predominantly black with a white bib, ending in a rim of red around the bib. The bill is black with dark red in the middle of each mandible.

The keel bill (R. sulfuratus), approximately 16 inches long, has a black body, yellow bib and red vent. The bill is unusual with its bright yellow, pastel green and red at the tip.

The channel bill (R. vitellinus) has a black body with a white and yellow bib. The bill is solid black except for a blue band close to the face. The channel bill is approximately 18 inches long.

Touracos are colorful birds commonly kept in aviaries. The two most common species are red crests (Tauraco erythrolophus) and white crests (T. leucolophus). These birds have bodies of varying shades of green. The most obvious differences are their namesake crests.

These birds are part of the softbill family, despite the fact that their bills are definitely not soft. Their bills are also not as heavy as they look; they are made from a porous honeycomb type material and are very sensitive. Hand-fed toucans can make tame and loving pets, and may live up to 20 years. Toucans do not talk, instead they make a croaking-type sound, or they make a purring-like sound when they are contented.

Even though this group of birds is from the tropics, they need shade, especially if temperatures go above 90 degrees Fahrenheit. In that case, it is even more important that these birds receive showers or have a bathing dish. If you keep a single toucan in a cage, a large macaw cage of at least 4 feet long is appropriate. If you keep the birds in an aviary, consider one 7 by 10 by 7 feet. Keep in mind that these are extremely active birds that need plenty of room and perches to jump and run.

A toucan’s diet is comprised of softbill pellets, fruits (avoid all citrus fruits) and vegetables — no seed. There is some debate as to whether toucans need live food (crickets, mealworms, etc.). Another protein source is chopped hard-boiled eggs.

Birdcages

This part might give people pause, and it should. Birdcages need to be plenty spacious, and often homeowners looking to save space in their homes will sacrifice the space available to the bird for the sake of maintaining a less cluttered appearance in their living rooms. Birds need space. Though they may seem small, many have larger wingspans than you’d think, and only have a few cubic feet of space to move around in can really be uncomfortable for the birds. The cage should be readily equipped with a steady supply of water, and too many birds should not be crammed into the same cage all at once.

Choosing a Bird

Though it may be tempting to take in a bird you spot in your backyard or on a hike, you should NEVER capture wild birds and keep them as pets. Wild birds will not be easily contained in a confined space, and it’s harmful to the individual bird and to the species to force unsuspecting wild birds into cages. Pet stores and adoption agencies are your best bet. If you can only fit a smaller sized cage in your house, try to pick a tiny bird that will still have plenty of room to move around in. Larger birds should only be adopted if you have the space and the know-how that will help you provide for them.

Birds in the Same Cage

If you’re putting more than one bird in the same cage, you should again remember that size and space matters. Don’t cram half a dozen large birds into a restricted area: you’re setting yourself (and the birds) up for disaster if you do. Also, keep in mind that not every species of bird gets along in the wild, and many of these relationship statuses will hold true in captivity as well. If you want to avoid bird fights, you have to be selective about which birds you choose to cohabitate in the same available space.

There are no experts in aviculture. Even those most accomplished and successful breeders of parrots and other exotic birds will tell you that the final chapter hasn’t been written.

A Breeder’s Beginnings

When I first got into bird breeding, an event which makes me scratch my head and wonder about my own sanity, several well-respected breeders suggested that I go heavily into mini-macaws, which had a high success rate compared to other parrots, such as Amazons and African greys. I was told that they are among the easiest parrots to breed.

Events led me into another direction, serendipitously causing a leap into the large macaws, which actually led me further into parrot breeding, since I had almost instantaneous success with greenwings, of all things, and then blue & golds.

Now, bear in mind that I lived then in a three-bedroom New York City apartment. I was given two macaws by a woman who just couldn’t keep them any longer. They were a greenwing and a blue & gold, both of which turned out to be hens. Within a few months I was given another greenwing, and I never even had to have him sexed. The two greenwings spotted each other, pinned their eyes, and began to copulate—on top of a budgie cage! Within a couple of months I had my first two greenwing babies.

While this breeding activity was going on with my growing collection of large macaws, I also acquired several lone Amazons, which I sexed, set up and left alone. It was six-plus years, before they ever produced any babies.

Introducting Minis

Meanwhile, slowly, over time, I acquired several mini macaws. I began with severes, and after sexing the two terribly in love ones I had, I discovered they were both overly friendly males. One was a baby I’d purchased at retail, simply because I fell in love with “her.” When I had an opportunity to get an older one, at far less than retail, I snapped “him” up. Two same-sex birds! Naturally, as all breeders know, the bird you need is the bird you can’t find.

To save cage space I left the two little guys together, and there they stayed for another year until I happened to find myself in California at an Avian Research Fund Conference and found two little unrelated females, ages 6 and 9 months, at the Feather Farm up in Napa. I bought them, packed them up and brought them back to New York.

Now, even though the scuttlebutt is that mini macaws will breed at an early age, sometimes as young as 18 months (hey, I’ve heard that about blue & golds too, but that doesn’t make it so), I knew that by starting out with baby hens, I’d have a long wait.

One of the most difficult parts of this situation was separating the males. I actually had to set them up in different rooms so they wouldn’t see each other. Hmm. They could still hear each other. Ever have two screaming severes in a New York City apartment? Not a happy neighbor scene, believe me.

They did eventually calm down and realize they could be friends with their intended mates. Eventually the foursome got along so well I was able to quad them up in one large cage, which was left open most of the time. This gave the little group a lot of freedom with overhead swings and climbing trees. It was a jungle in there.

The interesting thing about this experience is that it gave me some time to study their behavior, and, to my surprise, over the course of the next two years they seemed to switch mates several times. Then, one day, after I’d had the first bird four years, I realized that the older male, which may have been 10 or so, had paired up with the older female, which was still only about 3. I set them up together in earnest. By this time I had moved into a little building several blocks away, and the breeding birds had a very large airy room the whole length of the building all to themselves.

At that time the collection consisted of greenwings, blue & golds, a pair of Buffon’s, militaries, severes, yellow collars, nobles, Hahn’s, blue fronts, napes, double yellowheads, red lores, orange wings, lilac crowns, mealys, spectacles, green cheeks, a single pair of citrons, several pairs of conures (since moved out) and small numbers of the little birds, such as moustaches and of course cockatiels and lovebirds.

I set up the breeding floor so that the different types of birds had their own areas, and I made a special effort to stagger the population so that no two pairs of the same type were housed in direct eye contact with each other.

Breeding Successes and Lessons Learned

I now had two pairs of severes and yellow collars, and one pair each of nobles and Hahn’s macaws. Within the following year, after investing more than four years into them, the original pair of severes had three infertile clutches. Then the second year in the new location, which was their fifth year with me, they finally had a clutch of two fertile eggs. I was elated. I pulled the two eggs, put them in the incubator, and they hatched on the 24th day for each, both with no problems.

The babies were 12 and 11 grams. I probably patted myself too hard on the back. Another thing we aviculturists have to learn is to never do that. The pair, Blackbeard and Sparkle, did go back to nest, and the eggs were fertile, three eggs this time. I had them slated for pulling on a Saturday. On Friday night I heard this horrendous crash from the breeding floor (I live on the floor above), and I ran down there in my nightshirt to find the nest box crashed on the floor and the hen crushed under it. Dead, of course, along with all three eggs.

The male was stunned but unhurt. However, he was never the same again. He began to feather pluck. I found him another mate, but he was abusive to her and continued his plucking, taking it to the point of self-mutilation. Eventually he died, and everyone on my staff, myself included, is convinced that he was simply heartbroken. The younger male, the one I’d gotten as a baby and was then 6, never has bred, and his mate is now with another male. A later pair I’d acquired has since bred, just this year, and given me four babies in two clutches.

The babies we got from them were beautiful, perfect babies. I incubate all my babies. We hand-raise from Day 1, since I am a terrible sleeper and I may as well be feeding babies since I wake up every two hours anyway.

These birds may breed like rabbits for other people, perhaps in outdoor environments, but here in NYC, where we have huge success with the large macaws, and moderate success with Amazons, they don’t do as well. With such a small “collection” of mini-macaws, I hope some little kernel of observation will help someone.

Our minis and our Amazons are housed in 30- by 36- by 30-inch welded wire flights. These are double stacked on a wooden wheel base for ease of movement within the breeding floor, in case we have to get at the backs of the cages or move a double unit for any reason. There is a set-in boot-style nest box, (see photo) and a feeder station on the floor of the cage just big enough to hold two ceramic crocks.

The cages are built with a 2-inch bottom space allowed for a tray to fit in, and we generally use newspaper in the trays. If the birds decide to pull up and shred the newspaper, we switch that pair to a substrate of corncob. I prefer not to use that because if we somehow miss changing the substrate on the scheduled day it tends to grow mold, and I simply cannot tolerate my birds getting sick through human error (or stupidity).

Different things happen indoors than happen outdoors. My friends in Florida and California have to watch out for their birds getting out and flying away. I never lose a bird from it escaping. But I have lost them to getting their toes bitten off by landing on another cage, especially if they do this overnight, when nobody is around. Living upstairs I can hear if there is a problem during the nighttime hours, but I really have to catch them fast.

The Mini Personality

My birds tend to be relatively tame, and many of them, especially my second-generation babies, will come to me if they get out. The mini macaws don’t seem to want to get out of their cages. They are generally content to stay in with their partners.

All of our birds get swings and toys. Life is too boring without stimulation. We replace these as they wear out, and you can tell they are appreciated by the joy with which new ones are accepted.

I’ve noticed that the mini-macaw pairs are more timid and shy than many of the other birds when kept in a breeding situation. The Amazons will come at you and threaten to eat your face off. The large macaws will pretty much accept whatever you put in their face, even allowing the cleaning crew to go into the cages to change perches toys. The minis tend to hide in their nest boxes or in the far corner of the cage when the humans come around to clean or feed.

All of our birds get the same diet, and I’m waiting for someone to convince me that our diet isn’t right or to suggest something better that can be easily handled in an indoor situation. We feed 30 percent very high-quality seed mix, with no black sunflower. We use California grey stripe and a mixture of other seed, as well as dried fruit, chili peppers and a small amount of peanuts. In addition we add about 20 percent high-quality colored pellet mix, usually Zupreem. I do this on purpose, believing fervently that parrots are attracted to color, and that the pellet manufacturers must know what they’re doing, nutritionally.

Then we add the fresh stuff. Depending on the season our birds can get a mixture of carrots, zucchini, apples (no seeds), grapes, pears, oranges, green peppers, sweet potatoes (cooked), pasta and rice. Every day they get a second meal of corn on the cob, which serves the purpose of giving them all the “eyeball” before we all go home, and occasionally we do the rounds with walnuts, almonds, pecans, and other goodies such as scrambled eggs. We’ve had less success with our mini macaws than with some other species, such as the large macaws and Amazons. An interesting thing I’ve found, probably just with my own little flock, is that of all the birds we have they are the ones that tend to feather pluck the most. Generally it’s the males, and both my noble males are nearly bald.

I’ve also found that the mini-macaw babies tend to be just a tiny bit more fragile than some of the others. They seem to be more susceptible to stuff (a technical bird breeder term) in the environment. Noticing this a few years ago has actually served me well. That little tendency has made me go back and examine my own flock and neonate management protocols and make improvements for the benefit of all my birds.

We have, over the past eight years of being in our own little building, produced only 15 mini macaw babies: six severes, four yellow collars, two Hahn’s and three nobles. In contrast, we’ve gotten about 40 large macaw babies. My Amazon pairs just started producing three years ago, and then only one pair, the mealys. (Of course I kept the first baby) The following year, the sixth year of being set up, we began to get double yellowheads, napes and blue fronts.

But, our success rate with the minis is paltry in comparison, and now that I see that, I can begin to examine the reasons why and try to rectify the situation. After all, if these are one of the easiest types to breed, it’s time to sit up and take notice. We’re located in Manhattan, where there are lots of people who want to “move up” from dogs, which are lots of work, and cats, which aren’t noted for being very interactive. Many of these people think next about an exotic bird as a companion. Some of them have in their minds a vision of a large, colorful parrot. The reality of a large macaw, which is what they might be visualizing, may be a bit daunting, and their next consideration is usually one of the minis. Whether it be a severe, yellow collar, noble or Hahn’s, they fit the bill.

I’ve not spoken about red-bellied macaws, which I understand can be very delicate, and are extremely difficult to breed in captivity, and the Illiger’s, which is seldom seen in the “pet trade.” Mini macaws are wonderful companion parrots. As far as my “market” is concerned, they answer the problem of size in a parrot that is as huggy and tactile as the large macaws. We should be getting more of them. The babies are just adorable. Tune in next year to see if things improve. I’m willing to be that they will, now that I’ve sat down to write this and realized we should be doing better.

I donated the bird to the veteranary collage at A&M and soon had enough money to purchase a new bird. I went to many places looking for another Quaker ,because they are so popular in my area had a very hard

time finding a baby. After I gave up the search A woman at a petstore I frequently go to said that she had a 13 week old Quaker but it probably wasn’t what I was looking for. When I saw the bird I knew he was for me. This little ball of energy had only two full length toes. The breeder explained to me that he was born with toes but his siblings bit the others off. When I got my “Toeless Tobi” home he depended on me so much and our bond is strong. He now is about4 1/2 months old and is saying several phrases. He has learned that evertime my 1 year old nears the cage to start telling him “Bryant, NO NO, Help!” He also likes to play with everyone in our family, including the dog and cat. He still has a bit of trouble stepping on to a finger but if you open up your hand he jumps right in and lies down. His favorite activity is riding in the back of my sons toy truck and sitting on the shelf by the aquarium teasing our snake. The Quakers really are fearless, wonderful little birds. Anyone who owns a bird should consider a Quaker for their flock.

I fell in love with the bird, and wanted one of my own, however, my parents would not allow another. When my sister moved out, there was a void where the bird had been. Finally, when I turned 16, I begged my mother to take me to the pet store. She took me, and there in the corner of the little shop sat an umbrella cockatoo, and a small green sighn said, “for sale”. My heart was taken. From the moment I saw her, we had our own special bond. She cuddled and said hi. My mother smiled, and said” we’ll take her”. That was a year and two months ago, and me and my pretty birdy have an unbreakable bond. We yell together, play together, and we even dance together. I can’t have my cereal in the morning without her, or she will make her point know by chanting feed me hon! I love her with all my heart, and I always will.

I have a small aviary in my garage in Orlando, Florida, where I have two pairs of producing sun conures and two pairs of nonproducing Congo African grey parrots. I have had both grey pairs set up for more than a year and have no production of fertile eggs. I have had some infertile eggs from one pair. The male of this pair was a hand-fed domestic baby, and a breeder has told me that the bird obviously does not know what to do in the sexual activity realm. The male is very friendly to humans and whistles and squats down when people enter the aviary. I have taken a second male from the same breeder, which is an import so we are assuming that he is much more aware of what to do and when to do it. The original male of the pair is in the same aviary in sight and sound of the original hen and the new male.

The other pair of greys is in the same aviary right next to the first pair and is in plain sight and sound in front of two pairs of producing sun conures. I have no dividers between the birds, and they are on a 12-hour daylight and 12-hour dark cycle. The diet consists of fresh fruits and vegetables daily, and two commercial pellets mixed half and half. Surely the diet cannot be a problem since the sun conures are producing.

Can you give me any suggestions that may help these African greys start producing babies? I am way too far in the hole financially on this pair but am the type of person that would keep them forever anyway; it would just be nicer if they could pay their way.

Thank you for a detailed and informative history. Collecting a history is probably the most important aspect of “flock diagnosis.” Dr. Brian Speer will be speaking at the Mardi Gras Avicultural conference in New Orleans on problems such as these, and I highly suggest you attend. This conference is useful to the beginner or the most advanced people in aviculture. You can contact Dr. Greg Rich at DrMardiGra@aol.com for more information on the conference, which is February 7, 1999.

Excellent history taking is impossible without on-site visits. If you have an avian veterinarian in your area who provides this service or if you want to hire one to fly in from wherever then that is the best way to get the most answers. It just might also be the most expensive. We will proceed with the answers now but realize that without seeing your situation, many stones can be left unturned.

First I agree that the diet is adequate for reproduction to occur in your conures. That does not necessarily mean that it is appropriate for African greys. However, chances are that it is plenty for your greys. I still marvel at the birds that have produced on higher protein breeder rations rather than maintenance rations, and I highly suggest Harrison Bird Diets High Potency Formula for your breeding Congos. Even if you just try the new diet for six months and do not get results at least you will know you tried.

I would really limit the fruits and vegetables since some birds will eat these preferentially over the pellets. This can be a problem because fruits and vegetables are very low in protein and most are very low in calcium. These two nutrients are critical to egg and sperm production. Just as important are the micronutrients and vitamins that are provided in a pelleted ration. Fruits and vegetables also provide excellent opportunities for bacterial and fungal growth if left in the aviary. Be sure to remove these after three hours if you are going to feed them at all.

Now, about those conures in the same room as the Congos. There are aviculturists who strictly prohibit the housing of South American species with African or Australian species. Some just prevent the housing together of Old World versus New World parrots. I do not think there is any hard-and-fast rule that all should follow. I do think you could make some changes that will be beneficial to your situation. Get the conures away from the greys. Breeders such as Jean Pattison have taught me that the African species are very secretive about breeding. I was even told about a pair of Senegals that would only breed in the darkest corner of the basement where it was quiet and shadowy! Go with whatever works within reason that does not jeopardize the health of the birds.

Light stimulation is very important for breeding birds. I would increase the light on the Congos for two hours a day until you reach 16 hours. Hold them at 16 hours for 90 days and then abruptly drop to 14 hours. Hold at 14 hours for another 30 days. What am I doing? I base these suggestions on some very surprising stuff that I learned while studying for Avian Board Certification Exams several years ago. I had known for years that increasing day length was a strong stimulus for gonadogenesis. That is the longer the day, the more testicular and ovarian activity you can expect. Poultry egg producers have used this one for years to put eggs on your grocery shelves. What I did not know was that decreasing day length was just as stimulatory to gonadogenesis as was increasing day length. Surprising, isn’t it? Just might explain those pairs that produce when they aren’t supposed to, huh? You know the cockatoo pair that lays in the dead of winter when everyone else is quiescent. I tell you the truth—you just cannot get all these birds to read the same books. You have to do what works for your aviary and your specific pairs.

Okay, I have to come clean, I visited your aviary yesterday in Orlando and we had a wonderful time connecting. The truth is I was there and would have never gotten this perfect a history by talking to you on the phone or the web or the exam room. Videoconferencing might be a different story; I need to investigate that one! The screen enclosed pool area is where I would house the African greys. I would never suggest this had I not seen the area. It appears that the screen is sufficient to prevent opossums from getting near your birds. They carry the disease sarcocystis that can also be tracked to your birds from the opossum’s feces by the cockroach and other paratenic hosts. The other concern is the possibility of chlorine fumes from the pool or spa; however, with all the ventilation and the length of the pool facing north and south the prevailing breezes should take care of this for you. The heavy-duty wire you have should also prevent the raccoons from entering; they like to chew bird’s legs off!

One other thing I noticed was that I dislike the conure cages being on top of each other. This is for disease prevention. If the top pair start shedding a viral or bacterial disease the pair on the bottom are just too easily infected. One of the worst Pacheco’s virus outbreaks I have ever seen was in an aviary with pairs stacked on top of each other.

So the synopsis of the visiting an old friend and client in Orlando who really did not want this much information is:
1) Put the conures in cages side by side, not on top of each other.
2) Put the greys on HBD High Potency for 6 months as a trial.
3) Put the greys outside. Nothing I have ever seen stimulates birds to breed like being outside, this also takes care of the light thing as spring approaches. Day length just started getting longer with the winter solstice.
4) Take a long nap in the hot tub and call me in 90 days.

If you have a question for Dr. Vaughn, send him an e-mail care of BIRD BREEDER at birdbreeder@learn-about-birds.com. We regret that columnists are not able to respond to letters individually.

Sam Vaughn, DVM, Dip., ABVP-Avian Practice is an avian specialist based in Louisville, Kentucky. Certified in Avian Practice by the American Board of Veterinary Practitioners, Dr. Vaughn owns Avian Medical Services Inc. (an avicultural service and consultation practice) and is a partner in Veterinary Associates Stonefield, a full-service avian/exotic and small animal practice. Dr. Vaughn holds degrees in biology, chemistry and a Doctorate of Veterinary Medicine from Auburn University. Feel free to visit his web site at http://www.vetcity.com. Telephone consultations by appointment are available by calling (502) 245-7863.

By Janelle M. Crandell

We don’t have many visitors here at the Avitech aviary. Located in a mountain range about 60 miles north of Los Angeles, our facility is nestled in the pine woods 6,000 feet up on the north side of Frazier Mountain. Our nearest neighbor is about half a mile away, and our aviary is closed to the public. So we’re usually surprised and glad to have a visitor at Avitech, but one night last summer we got a lot more surprise than we’d bargained for.

Our aviary building is on the lot below our house and is connected by a stairway. We built it aviary of steel-reinforced concrete using foam blocks, which create heavily insulated l0-inch-thick walls that keep heat and cold out and sound in. The top floor of the building houses the brooder and feeding area for babies and a juvenile room for weaning birds, as well as our office and storerooms. The breeding birds are kept on the first floor, which is divided into two bird rooms, a cleanup room and a food storage room. The building is actually built into the side of a hill so the east side of the first story is underground. While this construction helps maintain a constant temperature, we were concerned about light and air, so we had large windows installed on the west walls and the front door.

One hot August night, we were fast asleep at about 2 AM when our dog woke us with frantic barking. The dog had only been with us for about a month, and since we didn’t hear or see anything, we though it was just nervous or had a bad dream. We stayed in bed and tried to calm our dog down, but it would have none of that. It jumped up on the bed and pulled my husband Ed by the sleeve of his pajamas. This convinced Ed that at least a cursory investigation was necessary. He went downstairs, checked the front and rear of the house and turned on the yard lights. At this point, I joined him downstairs and we went out onto a deck that overlooks the aviary building to listen for sounds. Since the aviary windows are on the other side of the building, there is not much sound from the birds at the house (we planned it that way!) so we leaned over the deck rail and strained to hear.

It was 2 AM but we could faintly hear that our orange wings were screeching, the Pionus were in an uproar, and the double yellowheads and napes sounded like they were screaming for help. A sharp pain of terror struck my heart. The birds would not be up at this time of night—our lights are on a timer, and they’d been off since 8 PM. My husband wheeled around and said, “Someone’s broken into the aviary, let’s go.”

We ran through the house and down the stairway to the aviary. I foolishly gave little thought to what action we would take if we confronted someone down there. My entire focus was on not letting them get any of my birds, no matter what it took. We ran around to the front deck of the aviary and leaned over to look at the windows along the west wall. The moon was not full, but there was enough light to see the windows and the ground clearly. I half expected to see the perpetrator climbing out of the window with a sack of birds. Instead we watched in stark horror as a large nest box flew out of the window. A second later, a sheet metal divider that had been bolted to a flight came crashing out. “Oh my God,” I thought, “They’re wrecking the place!” The same thought struck Ed as we dashed off down to the bird rooms.

We had no guns or weapons of any kind. As we ran through the storage area, Ed grabbed a janitor’s broom, and I selected an extra large concrete perch like the ones that we put into breeders cages to keep their nails smooth. I figured that if I got a shot at this guy he wouldn’t get up again after being conked on the head with this chunk of reinforced concrete.

Face to Face With the Intruder

I fully expected to see a shocking scene of carnage in the bird room, but I was not prepared for what greeted us as we swung the door open. Flights were pushed around at odd angles, and some were overturned. Dividers and nest boxes littered the floor. And there, standing between the flights on the far side of the room with birds flying past his head, was the largest black bear I had ever seen!

One of my worst fears had just become a reality. I’d heard about a neighbor several years ago who lost his parrot to a bear in a gruesome house break-in and I’d always feared that one might break into our aviary. We’d built a strong building with steel doors, but my husband had not put the steel bear bars that I wanted on the windows. He thought that bars on the windows would make the building look like a prison.

The bear was as black as coal, and its head was huge. The bear had round protruding ears, a shiny snout and long yellow teeth that made it look like a character out of a horror movie. I think we caught the bear in the act of trying to take a cage apart. It was standing up and looking straight at us with an expression that seemed to say, “What are you guys doing here?”

In hopes of scaring the bear into leaving the room, we screamed and yelled at the top of our lungs. It just stood and stared. Ed jumped forward and hit the bear on the nose with his broom. The bear made no sound. It just looked at Ed and waved a paw in the air. That’s when I noticed its really long, hooked claws and wondered how many of my birds had been devoured by this beast. I also noticed the smell. The entire room was filled with a vile smell that my husband later described as worse than death. Ed hit the bear again and it shook its head as though it were waking from a dream. Hit a third time, the bear issued a few grunts. Then it turned around, and hoisted itself out of the window.

Gone—For Now

What sweet relief! The bear was gone and now we could take stock and tend to our birds. I called our friends Rick and Karen and asked them to bring a gun in case the bear returned. The place was a mess, with feathers everywhere and spots of blood splattered on the walls and floor. One of our blue front males came flying out of the African greys’ room, and several of the bronze wings were cowering under a cage.

We did a quick survey and discovered no major injuries except for broken feathers. We rounded up the flying birds, righted the flights and then discovered that our green-cheeked conures (Beeps and Squeaks) were missing. We searched everywhere and had finally decided that they’d flown out of the window into the dark or had been eaten by the bear when we heard a familiar peep from the back corner of the room.

There was the green cheek’s nest box lying on its side with Squeaks’ head sticking out of the hole. We rushed over and found that Beeps was also in the nest box. The pair had jumped into the box when the bear attacked. Then they’d hung on while the bear tore the box off the cage and tossed it into the corner. And here they were, safe and sound, not a feather out of place.

We then checked the other room where our African birds are kept and were startled to find that our red bellies’ cage had been squashed to a height of about 6 inches. The red bellies were crouched down inside but appeared to be okay. The cage was so badly damaged that we had to cut it open to get the birds out. From the relatively good condition of the room and the tuffs of hair stuck on the wall near the window and on the wrecked cage, we guessed that the bear entered through the window in this room first.

The bear probably stepped from the window onto the red bellies’ cage and fell to the floor when the cage collapsed under its weight. The fall startled the bear, and it jumped back out the window. At this point, it seems that hunger overcame fear and the bear reentered through the next window.

We spent the rest of night in the aviary making temporary repairs, smoothing ruffled feathers and generally keeping a lookout for the return of our visitor. At dawn, we went outside for a closer look at the scene. The windows had been pulled out of their frames and thrown on the ground. Several dividers and nest boxes were outside. The windows did not offer easy access and the bear had left numerous claw marks on the siding and sills as he climbed up and hoisted himself in. The most curious marks were at the front door. The windows in the front door are small and at least 5 or 6 feet high. There were paw marks running up the door to the windows where the bear had apparently pulled itself up to look in. It seemed strange to me that a wild animal could grasp the concept of looking through a window.

On the inside, the walls and window sills had numerous deep gouges as the bear had clawed its way around while stumbling through the aviary. There were also strange blobs of smelly gunk and patches of hair pasted to the walls. After repairing the damaged flights and replacing nest boxes, we scrubbed the rooms down with disinfectant and patched the drywall. We replaced the windows, and our friend Rick welded and attached steel bars on the inside. Later in the day, we called the Fish and Game department and related our experience.

The Search Begins

A state game warden and the government trapper, Joe, came out and accessed the situation. Joe had brought a large culvert trap built on a trailer that he pulled behind his pickup truck. The culvert was about 4 or 5 feet wide and about 20 feet long. It had a heavy steel trap door at the rear attached to a bait lever inside near the front. Joe explained that the bear would climb in to get the bait, and the door would swing shut and latch. Then he would just drive away the next day with the bear inside. “How simple,” I thought.

Joe backed the trap up to the front door of the aviary and unhitched the trailer. Then he pulled a foul smelling bag of chicken parts out of the bed of the truck, dumped some of it out along the ground leading to the trap door and hung the bag up inside the culvert. He also produced a large can of fish and threw the contents into the culvert. He set the door latch, walked to the opposite end of the culvert and poked the bait lever with a stick through the bars at the front of the culvert. The door slammed shut with a reassuring clang.

From the size of the tracks, Joe believed that the bear was a male of about 300 pounds. Both the trapper and the warden were disturbed by the boldness of this bear, particularly when I told them that my husband had to hit the bear three times with a broom handle before it responded. They were also interested in the paw prints on the front door and said that a bear that was this familiar and comfortable with buildings and people could be a safety hazard to the community. I could certainly attest to that!

Joe examined our steel bars and asked how they were attached. He explained that a bear could have the strength of 20 men and could easily pull the bars out if it wanted to get inside. That was certainly not what I wanted to hear at that moment. I was nervous about having the trap so close to the building, and I asked if the bear might prefer the aviary to the trap. Joe laughed. “I’ve never had a bear fail to crawl into this trap,” he said. “It smells just like a garbage dumpster, and that is dinner time to a bear.”

Joe thought that the bear would return that night to get the goodies it had missed and crawl right into the trap. He said he’d be back tomorrow to take the bear away.

Being Prepared

With due respect to the professional animal people, we still felt that the bear might prefer to crawl into the aviary. So, my husband called our friend Brent, who is an avid hunter, and explained the situation.

Brent was also fairly certain that the bear would return that night, but he wasn’t as sure as Joe had been that the bear would casually crawl into the trap instead of the aviary.

So Brent volunteered to come over and help out. Ed borrowed the old military rifle that Rick had brought over the night before, and Brent came with a rifle, a shotgun and a large pistol. The men, literally “loaded for bear,” camped out in the office at the aviary building all night and waited. But the bear didn’t come that night.

Realizing that we couldn’t stay awake every night, Ed decided to rig up a bear alarm. He mounted a motion detector used to turn on yard lights and rigged it to sound an alarm in our bedroom upstairs. We reasoned that if the bear decided to break into the aviary, we’d have enough time to get downstairs before it could pull out the steel bars.

Ed kept the rifle at the door, and he loaded it each night as we went to bed and unloaded it again in the morning. The trap remained in front of the aviary for a week. We kept putting fresh bait in and around the culvert, but no bear. Finally, Joe arrived and told us that if the bear hadn’t come back by now, he had moved on to another territory or had been trapped or killed by someone. So he hitched up his culvert trap and drove away.

That very night the alarm went off. It was one of those burglar alarm sirens that sounded with an alternating high and low tone like an ambulance or fire truck. It was deafening right there in our bedroom, and we jumped straight up and ran for our clothes as though the house was on fire. The alarm stopped for a few seconds and then began again. We knew that the bear was walking around outside the aviary building.

As we reached the back door, Ed grabbed the rifle and started down to the front of the aviary. I thought for a moment and decided that, since I was the only backup that Ed had, I should also be armed. So I dashed into the office to get the shotgun that Brent had left while Ed headed downstairs. I had just reached toward the shelf where we kept the gun when a shot rang out.

I grabbed the shotgun and headed outside. Ed was standing on the deck at the front of the aviary looking very glum. “I think I missed him,” he said. ” I hope I didn’t just wound him.” Ed said that when he’d reached the east side of the aviary, the bear was already tearing out a window. The bear heard or smelled Ed and had turned around to look for him. At that point, Ed took aim and shot. The bear jumped up and then ran downhill through the brush and into the woods below.

We were thankful that the bear had gone, but we were worried that it might be wounded and become even more dangerous. I called Joe, the trapper, and left a message on his recorder. We stayed at the aviary all night and, at first light, we scoured the brush for signs of the bear. We could see where the bushes had been crushed when he ran down the hill, but we couldn’t find him.

We checked inside the bird room and none of the birds appeared to be disturbed or hurt. We did our routine cleanup and feeding, replaced the window and waited for Joe to come. He hadn’t arrived by mid morning, and we had an appointment in town, so we left and returned at about 3PM.

We were standing around in front of the aviary wondering what to do next when Joe’s pickup rolled down the road. Joe had brought a helper and a truck full of dogs. They pulled up and got out of the truck and began walking toward us shaking their heads.

“Hey you old bear hunter!” trapper Joe yelled as he got within earshot. “That bear was right down here in the woods, deader than a doornail.” I couldn’t believe it. I was sure they were joking, and to me it was a horribly sick joke.

Joe told us that they’d decided they needed to track this bear down before it broke into another house and attacked someone. So they’d brought tracking hounds, camping gear and enough food to spend the night on Frazier mountain. The tracks at the aviary were clear, and they set one of the hounds loose from there to give them a direction to hunt for the bear.

The dog had run howling down the hill, across a small dirt road and into the woods below. Chasing after the dog, they found her jumping up and down over the body of the bear, not 100 yards away from the building! Joe said that the bullet had passed completely through the bear’s body and had pierced its heart. The bear died instantly and had fallen and rolled down the hill. I wanted to see the bear, but it had already been removed by the warden, and all that Joe could show me was the spot in the woods where the bear had been found.

I shudder to think back now to that first night. In the hours before we’d normally have gone down to the aviary, the bear could have devastated our birds at leisure. Miraculously, not a single bird was lost or seriously injured. I hate to think of what could have happened if our dog Shadow hadn’t warned us and literally dragged us out of our bed.