It's hot here. Yesterday Gus (Senegal parrot) and I tried to do our daily walk three different times and had to throw in the towel each time. The second one ended with Gus hanging out his wings and panting, so I hustled it back to the house and misted him with cold water. During our evening walk he demanded to share my water with me straight out of the bottle (I'd been dipping my finger in it to let him drink in drops off the end). I tipped the bottle very slowly for him, and just as the liquid got to his beak he got impatient and gave it a big yank, which resulted in him being doused and us losing about 1/4th of our drinking water. He was MOST dismayed and didn't ask for anymore water after that.
This morning we got a fairly early start, but it was already 84 degrees and only a very light, intermittent breeze was blowing. Gah. But there is nothing worse than sitting around in extreme heat (we have no air conditioning) feeling yourself getting fatter by the moment and craving just one more Dove Bite ice cream out of the freezer. Besides, Gus has been getting a rather loud version of cabin fever, what with all the shades pulled down and the house in perpetual twilight. I took along a bottle of water for me and a baby carrot for Gus so he wouldn't get frustrated with the bottle.
Things started out fine, but soon we got to the Big Hill. It is my theory that if it can withstand these daily ordeals, my heart will stay youthful this way (no comment from the knees). There were some long stretches without shade on The Hill, and at the second one Gus decided that he felt exposed and clambered down to what he thought might be my shady spot. Unfortunately even with 20 pounds more insulation than I need I am still not in the shade in the summer, heat in the winter category of person, so my barely there veranda didn't offer much cover. Still, he preferred to ride along on my finger, held just below my bust line. On the third shadeless stretch he reached down and pinched the hand he was standing on. Not wanting to give the little shit smear a drama reward I tried not to react at all, but I think I sped up a little. On the fourth patch he pinched me two times, a little harder than before, and I sped up quite a bit. See, there is this law of conservation of energy, and since I was resisting flinging his expensive little green ass onto the pavement and didn't want to give him the thrill of a stream of invective, I had to go somewhere with the energy, so I walked faster. Slow witted primate that I am it took until the third repetition of biting and hurrying up to understand he was DRIVING me! The little bugger was putting the spurs to his mount to get to the shady spots faster! Once there he'd begin saying, "Treat time!" over and over until I gave him some carrot. He really didn't seem that interested in the treat, but to get it I had to dig in my pocket and that made me slow down, and as long as I was slowing down I opted for a drink out of my water bottle. Ahh... faster in the hot parts, slow in the shade. When we finally got back to the driveway he scuttled up to my shoulder in excitement and proceeded to sink his beak deep into my shirt over and over and OVER, apparently trying to urge me to run that home stretch and fly through the finish line in a burst of glory! Thank God I put shoulder pads under my shirt to save me from his pointy little talons or I'd be a bloody mess. As it is my shirt is now breathtakingly well aerated.
Upon examining all the little blood blisters on my hands (and the one puncture wound - I was getting tired and didn't speed up enough that time), I came to the conclusion that next time I am going to wear one of those umbrella hats to shade us both and get a strap on dildo to wear over my shoulders. That should make for a nice, easy to grip perch at about mid-chest level for Gus to ride. He can bite the hell out of it all he pleases and I won't mind a bit!
This morning we got a fairly early start, but it was already 84 degrees and only a very light, intermittent breeze was blowing. Gah. But there is nothing worse than sitting around in extreme heat (we have no air conditioning) feeling yourself getting fatter by the moment and craving just one more Dove Bite ice cream out of the freezer. Besides, Gus has been getting a rather loud version of cabin fever, what with all the shades pulled down and the house in perpetual twilight. I took along a bottle of water for me and a baby carrot for Gus so he wouldn't get frustrated with the bottle.
Things started out fine, but soon we got to the Big Hill. It is my theory that if it can withstand these daily ordeals, my heart will stay youthful this way (no comment from the knees). There were some long stretches without shade on The Hill, and at the second one Gus decided that he felt exposed and clambered down to what he thought might be my shady spot. Unfortunately even with 20 pounds more insulation than I need I am still not in the shade in the summer, heat in the winter category of person, so my barely there veranda didn't offer much cover. Still, he preferred to ride along on my finger, held just below my bust line. On the third shadeless stretch he reached down and pinched the hand he was standing on. Not wanting to give the little shit smear a drama reward I tried not to react at all, but I think I sped up a little. On the fourth patch he pinched me two times, a little harder than before, and I sped up quite a bit. See, there is this law of conservation of energy, and since I was resisting flinging his expensive little green ass onto the pavement and didn't want to give him the thrill of a stream of invective, I had to go somewhere with the energy, so I walked faster. Slow witted primate that I am it took until the third repetition of biting and hurrying up to understand he was DRIVING me! The little bugger was putting the spurs to his mount to get to the shady spots faster! Once there he'd begin saying, "Treat time!" over and over until I gave him some carrot. He really didn't seem that interested in the treat, but to get it I had to dig in my pocket and that made me slow down, and as long as I was slowing down I opted for a drink out of my water bottle. Ahh... faster in the hot parts, slow in the shade. When we finally got back to the driveway he scuttled up to my shoulder in excitement and proceeded to sink his beak deep into my shirt over and over and OVER, apparently trying to urge me to run that home stretch and fly through the finish line in a burst of glory! Thank God I put shoulder pads under my shirt to save me from his pointy little talons or I'd be a bloody mess. As it is my shirt is now breathtakingly well aerated.
Upon examining all the little blood blisters on my hands (and the one puncture wound - I was getting tired and didn't speed up enough that time), I came to the conclusion that next time I am going to wear one of those umbrella hats to shade us both and get a strap on dildo to wear over my shoulders. That should make for a nice, easy to grip perch at about mid-chest level for Gus to ride. He can bite the hell out of it all he pleases and I won't mind a bit!
3 comments:
How cute!! It reminds me of this guy I know back in New York who lived in my neighborhood and he would always walk with the parrot on his shoulder and the bird never moved.
How old is Gus?
Gus is 8. He is a rescue bird, having lived in two other homes since the breeder and done stints in pet stores in between. I've had him for three years. Estimates for the lifespan of this bird are about 35 years, but there are anecdotal reports of Senegal parrots living to 50.
His wings are clipped enough that he can't gain any altitude, though he almost never tries to fly at all. In the winter we let them grow and encourage him to fly, but so far he hasn't shown much interest. I tried to put him in a harness and then to use little leg restraints to keep him safer, but he chewed relentlessly at both, so now I put my hand over his feet whenever a car or bicycle goes by. I know it's a risk, but this way he gets a much more varied life and hopefully a better quality one than being confined to the house or a cage.
He has worked with me as a therapy bird in the past, and I hope will again in the future, but sadly, my current population of clients isn't safe for him.
He's quite the character. Given the opportunity he would definitely rule over us all!
Gus is right. It's been too damn hot.
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