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Post by siobhan on Jun 23, 2017 16:12:18 GMT -5
When it's hot, I usually dispose of my hair in a ponytail. Clyde has watched me do this for nine summers now. The first few times I appeared in a ponytail this year, he was annoyed and tried to steal my hair tie. Then he decided it was okay and while he still tries to steal scrunchies (he likes to play with them), he isn't mad about the ponytail anymore.
Yesterday it was cool out and I had a little headache, so I didn't have a ponytail. And he was mad about THAT. He didn't even want to sit on me. He kept staring at me, slicked-down his feathers, and flew away. Then he'd sit there with his foot waving at me to pick him up. I picked him up, he stared at me, slicked down and flew away. This went on and on until he decided he wanted head rubs and apparently that was more important than his disapproval.
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Post by cnyguy on Jun 23, 2017 19:47:32 GMT -5
Now, Siobhan, you've been a Quaker parront long enough to know that all changes in appearance (however minor) must have advance parrot approval.  Ralph used to chew off my pony elastics too, but lost interest in that a long time ago. |
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Post by biteybird on Jun 23, 2017 22:36:07 GMT -5
Gary is right, Siobhan, will you never learn?  |
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Post by siobhan on Jun 24, 2017 10:42:59 GMT -5
I guess Rocky spoils me on that front. He doesn't care what I'm wearing (I can even wear red with him) or how I do my hair. Neither does Ringo Starling. Or Benjy, who took advantage of Clyde's snit to get all the attention that evening. LOL
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Post by biteybird on Jun 25, 2017 3:32:01 GMT -5
I must point out you are neglecting that Rocky, Ringo Starling and Benjy are not the masters of the universe (i.e., Quaker Parrots), whereas Clyde IS. Therein lies your error. Sometimes you just have to return to the basics.  |
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Post by siobhan on Jun 26, 2017 11:01:15 GMT -5
True enough. I took Clyde out to the enclosed front porch on Sunday, where Rocky (thought he) reigns supreme. Rocky was on his window perch watching Bird TV. I appear with Clyde on my shoulder (or "his" shoulder, as Hubby refers to it). Rocky was stunned. He's seen Clyde. He's even seen Clyde on my shoulder, from a safe distance. But I sat down in a chair and we spent a while on the porch. Rocky said "hello." Clyde said "hello." Rocky said "hello." Clyde said "hello." Lather, rinse, repeat. Then Clyde started chuckling and preening my hair and himself. Rocky was floored. "WHAT? He's preening MOM." Rocky said "hello." Clyde said, "Peekaboo." Rocky doesn't know "peekaboo" yet. Hubby offered Rocky's T-stand to Clyde (because Clyde wouldn't step up for him; he was quite comfy on Mom, thanks very much) and Clyde freaked and flew across the porch and back to me. Now Rocky was really floored. "HE can FLY? Like the birds outside?  And he's in HERE???" Yes, Rocky, this is actually the Chief Bird in Charge. I know you thought you were. But ... you're not. |
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Post by beccilouise on Jun 26, 2017 15:12:52 GMT -5
I sympathise. I now have a nail routine: Maya perfectly happy with current nail colour, Becci leaves house on trip to nail salon, returns with new nail colour, maybe slightly different shade, Maya flies over to inspect, runs full tilt at nails, beak open like a little terrier, screeches to a halt about an inch from nails, head still down, wings lifting, screaming at new nail colour until satisfied that nails will not a) bite her or b) run away, then she lowers her head for scritches.
Ridiculous.
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Post by biteybird on Jun 26, 2017 19:51:57 GMT -5
They are full of surprises. Yesterday I was 'playing rough' with Bonnie, which she loves. I had my hand and fingers above her head and she was play-pecking and darting, then suddenly she regressed back to the 'baby quaking' - full on head bobbing and wings out shaking up and down. It was hysterical. I haven't seen her do that for such a long time. |
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Post by biteybird on Jun 26, 2017 19:53:40 GMT -5
True enough. I took Clyde out to the enclosed front porch on Sunday, where Rocky (thought he) reigns supreme. Rocky was on his window perch watching Bird TV. I appear with Clyde on my shoulder (or "his" shoulder, as Hubby refers to it). Rocky was stunned. He's seen Clyde. He's even seen Clyde on my shoulder, from a safe distance. But I sat down in a chair and we spent a while on the porch. Rocky said "hello." Clyde said "hello." Rocky said "hello." Clyde said "hello." Lather, rinse, repeat. Then Clyde started chuckling and preening my hair and himself. Rocky was floored. "WHAT? He's preening MOM." Rocky said "hello." Clyde said, "Peekaboo." Rocky doesn't know "peekaboo" yet. Hubby offered Rocky's T-stand to Clyde (because Clyde wouldn't step up for him; he was quite comfy on Mom, thanks very much) and Clyde freaked and flew across the porch and back to me. Now Rocky was really floored. "HE can FLY? Like the birds outside? And he's in HERE???" Yes, Rocky, this is actually the Chief Bird in Charge. I know you thought you were. But ... you're not. I'd love to be a fly on the wall at your place. It sounds like the cutest scene ever. |
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Post by siobhan on Jun 27, 2017 14:09:47 GMT -5
Jade was wearing one of her bells as a hat and flapping her wings and squawking up a storm on Sunday, too. I laughed, she did it again. And again. And again. It was most definitely deliberate. She's our resident entertainment committee.
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Ralph used to chew off my pony elastics too, but lost interest in that a long time ago. 
And he's in HERE???" Yes, Rocky, this is actually the Chief Bird in Charge. I know you thought you were. But ... you're not. 