Pickles The Parrot: A Humorous Look At Life With An African Grey

by Abbott, Georgi

  Those of you who are reading this, and have African Greys of your own, are probably aware of Dr. Irene Pepperberg, her African Grey named Alex and her research over the years. Until Alex’s death in 2007, he demonstrated abilities that scientists thought impossible for birds. He could not only speak in context but could distinguish between colors, shapes and sizes and tell you what each item was, such as ‘square, four corners, blue’ and say which item was ‘bigger’ or ‘smaller’. He could count and he could identify different materials such as paper, wool and wood etc.

  Is Pickles as smart as Alex? I don’t know. We don’t work with him and test his intelligence however, we see amazing glimpses of cleverness each day. Once, I was humming while tidying the living room and Pickles asked, “Is that a song?”

  “Sorta” I said, “It’s called humming.”

  “What’s in a song?” Pickles asked.

  “Lyrics and melody” I told him.

  He gave me the raspberry, as if to say he didn’t believe me so I said, “Then you tell ME what’s in a song”.

  “Music?” he asked tentatively.

  “BINGO!” I said, shocked that he would come up with that.

  Then, after I blurted out “Bingo” he told me “What a good song!” because we always sing “Bingo Was Her Name Oh”.

  While we’re on the subject of songs, Pickles once asked “Wanna sing a beak?” and I told him “You can sing a song, or you can sing with your beak but you can’t sing a beak”. He responded with “That’s crap”.

  You can see by the last exchange that that he’s just being silly and saying words that don’t really go together but maybe he just made a mistake and meant to ask, “Wanna sing with your beak?” which is something he says all the time. Who knows? What I do know is that he doesn’t always make sense. And sometimes, I think he’s just screwing with me. Like the time he kept calling “Gary…Gary…Gaaaaarrrrryyyyyy”.

  “Who’s Gary?” I ask

  “Huh?” Pickles answers.

  “I said, who’s Gary?” I repeat.

  “Scary?” Pickles asks

  “Huh?” I ask.

  “Scary” Pickles tells me.

  “Is he?” I ask.

  “Huh?” Pickles asks.

  “You said he’s scary Pickles. Is he?

  “Gary?” Pickles asks.

  “Yeah” I respond”

  “Huh?” Pickles asks.

  “Jeez Pickles, who the heck are you talking about?”

  “Gary” He says.

  “You’re driving me crazy Pickles”.

  “Is it scary?” asks Pickles.

  I guess that was Pickles’ version of “Who’s On First?”

  If Pickles really wants something, he asks in clear and simple terms. If he’s angry with you, he makes no bones about it and doesn’t mince words. He’ll tell you to ‘stop it’ and he’ll call you names. If he’s happy with you, he lets you know by telling you you’re ‘good’. They say you shouldn’t anthropomorphize with parrots, that you can’t apply human behavior or emotions to birds but Pickles is involved in almost every aspect of our lives, we spend almost all our time with him, and our experience is that they do have similar emotions. One day we’ll write an article about it because we don’t think this has been properly researched. It’s obvious to us when Pickles is angry, sad, frustrated or happy. His body language, actions (and reactions afterwards) indicate that he knows what teasing is. For instance, any time you ask him what a dog says he will bark but the last time, when I asked, he cawed like a crow. I said no, asked him again and got the same response. This happened several times and each response came with head bobs and chuckles. He knew better but he was interested in our reactions. When I told him he was a goof and walked away, he barked.

  When Pickles doesn’t get what he wants and goes on a tirade of beating up toys and everything else in sight, you can’t tell me this is not an angry response and emotion. When he hoots, hollers and whistles when you tell him you’re going to get him a grape, this isn’t a happy emotion? When he crouches, splays his wings, chews his toenail and does circles on his perch when you refuse to give him a snack, he’s not frustrated? Or if he puffs up his cheeks and settles into a fluffy little ball when you deny his request to go for a walk, he’s not disappointed and sad? I’m sure the scientists would debate this but when you spend as much time with a parrot as we do, it simply doesn’t make sense.

  Body language is not only key to understanding a parrot, but it’s crucial. Anybody who says their bird never gave any sort of sign that he was going to bite isn’t paying close enough attention. It can be their stance, feathers ruffling or sleeking against the body, a head movement or something as subtle as a slight change in their eyes. Parrots don’t want to bite, their first instinct is to flee but that’s not always possible for a domestic bird (especially one that doesn’t fly) so if you don’t heed their warnings, their only option is to bite. Through body language, just as they do in the wild with other birds, they are telling you what they want or don’t want and if you are unable or unwilling to respect their feelings, you will pay for it.

  In the beginning, Neil had a hard time learning Pickles’ body language and he paid for it in blood. I remember one evening, during the previously mentioned difficult period between Neil and Pickles, when Neil was sitting on the couch with Pickles next to him on the couch arm. Pickles put his head down, bared his neck and asked for a scratch. Neil reached his finger out slowly and hesitated just before contact. Pickles whipped his head around and bit. “You pissed him off” I said, “Don’t hesitate otherwise he thinks you’re teasing him”. Neil said he was scared because he always gets bit and I told him it’s because you can’t read him. I said there are times when Pickles will put his head down for a scratch just to draw you in for a bite but there are times he really wants to be scratched. His body language will tell you what he’s opting for. That time, Pickles wanted a scratch but was frustrated with your response because he too can read body language and he’s irked that you’re afraid of him, that you’re such a wimp and not giving him what he wants.

  A little while later, Pickles asked again for a scratch. I told Neil to pay attention to his body language and that Pickles honestly wanted a scratch. I told him not to hesitate, just do it. It took courage but Neil went in for the scratch and was rewarded with several minutes of gentle bonding. It took some trial and error for a couple of days but Neil quickly learned to read Pickles and the biting stopped.

  Parrots understand body language, both with their own kind and with us. It comes naturally to them, they were born with that instinct. They can read your mood and they will behave accordingly. He’s very sensitive and respectful of us when we’re dead tired, or not feeling well. If we’re extremely tired, he will entertain himself and if we’re sick and sleeping on the couch, he’s quiet as a mouse.

  I’ve read that African Greys have psychic abilities and have had occasion to wonder about that myself. One evening, during the time Neil was working in Vancouver, he was driving home for the weekend and was expected around 8:00 that evening. 45 minutes before his arrival, Pickles suddenly went berserk and started yelling “Daddy’s home! Daddy’s home” but when I looked outside, there was no car. Pickles settled down after a couple of minutes and was quiet until Neil drove up 45 minutes later. The next day, Neil was telling me how good he feels coming home and that whenever he gets to the town of Merritt (45 minutes from here) he gets excited and starts talking out loud. Part of that involves saying “Pickle Boy! Daddy’s coming home! Woo hoo!” and I thought, no frickin’ way. But yes, Pickles was acting up and positive that daddy was home at the exact time that Neil would have been talking out loud in the car. We live a few blocks from the fire/ambulance station and I can’t explain why 5 seconds before the sirens start blaring, Pickles does his own siren although I suspect he hears something that we can’t hear beforehand—like maybe the garage door opening.

  Parrot diet is very complicated. Contrary to pop
ular belief, Polly doesn’t want crackers. Crackers are loaded with fat, salt, and trans fats. They need fresh fruit, vegetables, grains and all the right proteins, nutrients and vitamins. They can be fussy eaters so it’s not always easy to maintain a healthy diet for them. 8 years later, I’m still studying everything I can get my hands on in regards to diet. I think we’ve done a pretty good job in providing Pickles the proper nutrition but I’ll admit there are the odd times when Pickles gets a bit of crap. Once in a blue moon he gets a piece of my low-salt, low-fat potato chip, about the size of a quarter. (I should mention that Neil and I are on very low fat and salt diets.) Neil has become an expert at cooking healthy meals and even baking breads, cookies and cakes that have basically no fat. Delicious too! And sometimes Neil makes pizza so Pickles gets a tiny bit of crust. It’s rare but sometimes Pickles will also get the odd piece of hard cheese, a mouthful of pudding or jello and his favorite—half a jellybean.

  Neeka is also on a very good diet. We buy good dry dog food and treats, I bake most of his dog cookies and that’s all he’s allowed. We’ve never fed him people food so he doesn’t ask for it. He will sleep or play the whole time we are dining or snacking and never looks at us in expectation. Every couple of months, I will sneak a little gravy, meat and potato into a dish when he’s not looking and just leave it there for him to discover. That way, he doesn’t know where it came from, he thinks it just magically appeared! From the moment we brought him home at 8 weeks of age, we have free-fed him dry dog food. No can food. Our vet can’t get over how slim and healthy he is since Min Pins are prone to obesity, and his teeth are perfect because of the dry food, treats, rawhides and odd meat bone.

  Okay, so some of you might be getting a little bored of reading stuff like this so I’ll throw a little story in to break it up…I left Pickles a little too long in the dining room while I worked on the computer in the room down the hall. I can tell he’s getting bored with the ‘baby butt birdies’ outside the window but he’s still calling good naturedly, “Anybody home? Hello? Wanna go to the freezer”. He’s being a good boy so I drop what I’m doing, pick him up and take him to play on the chest freezer in the laundry room. He runs around for a while then settles into a fluff ball, allowing the freezer vibrations to course through his body. This makes him sleepy, at least I think that’s what’s it’s doing, if you know what I mean. So while he’s in this content mood, I take him home to his cage in the living room and go back to the computer.

  A few minutes later I hear him yelling, “Said be right backarack, jackarack!” I remembered I did tell him I’d be right back and then I forgot, but wait! Did he say ‘jackarack’? He got ‘be right backarack’ from Neil but where the heck did the last part come from? Regardless, I headed back and shared a banana with him. He only eats the outside, leaving me with the crappy core, and the stringy stuff is flown in my face. When we’re finished, Pickles indicates he wants to go back to the dining room and “listen to some music” this time, so I transport him back there and put some flute music on the CD player for him. The dining room is where we keep the stereo.

  Later, while working on the computer, I’m vaguely aware of clicking on the hall floor but assume it’s just Neeka. I ignore it until I hear a tiny voice saying “Let’s go home” and turn to see Neeka on one side of a stuffed toy and Pickles on the other through the doorway. Neeka’s looking horrified because he’s afraid Pickles is after him but also because he wants the stuffed toy in front of Pickles—he doesn’t like to share. But Pickles, on the other hand, is horrified by the toy and just wants to get past it and go through the doorway to get to me. “Stop it!” he yells at the toy as he paces back and forth.

  It’s obvious Pickles isn’t very comfortable on the floor and he kinda wants to go home but he had braved the whole trek all the way to see me and wasn’t comfortable about turning around to go all the way back. He wanted me to pick him up and take him home, or he wanted to join me at the computer. Meanwhile, I just sat quietly and watched the show.

  Neeka and Pickles are at a stale mate. It’s stressing Neeka out but it’s really pissing Pickles off and Pickles takes to growling at the toy and telling it off. “Ratty beak! Stop it! Go home!” he snarls.

  Neeka creeps ever so slowly up to the stuffed toy, takes a toe gingerly in his mouth and drags it carefully backwards down the hall and out of my vision. Pickles dashes through the doorway but Neeka must have thought Pickles was taking a run at him because I heard a scrambling series of clicks beating it further down the hall.

  Pickles makes it to my feet and roosts there with one foot in the air, signaling that he wants up. He sits on my knee muttering over his ordeal while I surf the net looking for more stuffed toys.

  Now back to the boring stuff. Flighted or non-flighted—that is the question. We’ve basically left that up to Pickles. He’s not clipped at present and doesn’t seem to take any interest in flying except when startled. He knows he can fly, and fly well. As a baby, Thomas & Sylvia allowed him to fledge before he was clipped for me. This is important as it teaches them good balance and confidence. When Pickles does fly, he can grasp my upheld finger and land with perfect grace. He can hover, mid-air until he decides which direction to go and he can bank and angle artfully. If he’s startled to the floor, he’s capable of flying back up to his cage but he chooses to walk and climb. After a few incidents, he seems to be learning about windows but now and then he presses his luck with softer hits.

  Sometimes we feel we need to clip him, like when we go camping or stay in a cabin because his set-up is different and we don’t want him startled through an open door. Plus, something could happen during transportation—a cage door gets loose, a car accident or something unexpected. When we do clip him, we have to warn him that he can no longer fly. We’ll hold him up over the bed and release him so that he flops onto something soft and after a couple of times, he gets it. The first time we clipped him, we were staying at a friend’s place and he was startled from his cage and fell like a rock onto the porcelain tile. When he landed, he sat perfectly still and went “Uh oh.” It wasn’t until later that I noticed every time I gave him a snack, he dropped it. I inspected his beak and he had broken the tip off. Poor thing couldn’t eat much more than mash potatoes and oatmeal for a couple of days.

  Parrot behavior is an on-going research project for us. Their behavior is so very complicated and it’s only recently that information on African Greys has been available because they are so close to the wild. They haven’t been domesticated as long as other parrot species so they haven’t been studied as much. Then there’s all the ‘junk’ information out there, advice you want to completely avoid if you want a well-balanced, healthy bird.

  African Greys, some people say, can live up to 75 years or more. This is unlikely in captivity though because, being so close to the wild, they haven’t had a chance to build up immunities to certain toxins and bacteria. Regardless, they can live a long time and Pickles will probably outlive us. This is where it becomes difficult for us. A parrot owner needs to make arrangements for their parrot before they die. We have yet to find a home suitable for Pickles. It can’t be just anybody; they need parrot experience, patience, preferably no children and a situation that allows Pickles the freedom he’s always enjoyed. Even if we found such a place, what guarantee do we have that someone won’t run into circumstances that force them to give him up? There are horror stories out there about parrots going from home to home being neglected, abused, left covered all the time or basically abandoned in a garage to go insane.

  Pickles is a pretty easygoing, well-balanced bird but he expects to be treated a certain way. If he were to be put in a home where he was denied that treatment, he wouldn’t be an easy bird to live with. He could end up a miserable, screaming, biting bird and who wants that? So it’s on to the next crappy home who decides they want a really cool parrot but are completely unprepared and unequipped to deal with him.

  As Pickles ages, he becomes more sedentary. He’s not a
s active with his toys or as demanding of our time. He’s perfectly content to sit in one spot for long periods of time, preening, napping, observing or chatting to himself. He’s 8 years old now and the changes are significant. We suspected that he would get like that over time but didn’t expect it at this age. Perhaps it’s because Neil and I are getting older and less active and Pickles picks up on that, or maybe we’re doing right by him and have shaped him into a well-balanced, content bird.

  To live with an animal who can speak and communicate is truly astonishing. They have such human-like qualities but not so much that they lose their animal attraction. Let’s face it; we keep animals because they’re so unhuman-like. Would you like your dog or cat as much if they could speak? An animal that doesn’t talk, is an escape from the human frustration we deal with every day. But then, along comes a parrot. Even if they don’t speak, they are so un-like any other domesticated pet but the fact that they do, makes them so very intriguing. That a creature so small can be so intellectually engaging while melting your heart with love and affection is beyond words for anyone who’s never experienced it. Pickles’ intelligence challenges us to be smarter, more patient, kinder, less selfish and more humble. His playful impishness keeps us young and his happiness is contagious. Sure, he can be a cruel tyrant but with a soft, gentle side. Please The King and you will receive your just rewards and his undying loyalty.

  Pickles’ love is not unconditional. His conditions are; feed me, entertain me, be patient with me, allow me to make my own decisions, allow me my independence and to feel a sense of control over my own life, trust me, respect me and love me unconditionally.