I came across this poem and felt like sharing it. I'm not one for anthropomorphism but it sums up the life of a lot of unlucky parrots out there. I wish I had adopted instead of purchasing, but I did not then what I know now.
Lilac Crowned Amazon (Bacci- Forever on my shoulder, forever in my heart.)
Yellow Collared Macaw (Loki the Monkey Bird)
Military Macaw (Wingnut)
Citron Crested Cockatoo
(Knuckles)
This is almost exactly the life of mine parents rescue gala.
Only she wasn't loved from the beginning and because of that she has permanent damage because of the lack of vitamins and calcium.
She never learn to fly,now even with all her feathers she still doesn't.
All her tail feathers grow wrong and her feet are really unstable.
When my parents got her,she had ended by a breeder who gave her seeds for budgies..
In the beginning she would only let us pick her up if we used gloves,she was too scared for hands.
Now after 3 years we finally got her to eat pellets,but still doesn't eat veggies or fruit,she probably hasn't eaten it her whole life.
She only played with one toy after a year a bell,she still doesn't know what to do with the other toys.
Now she is a happy bird thankfully,she dance when we get home and makes sounds,whistle to us.
Sorry to post this here but this poem made me want to share it.
When i read that poem it just made me remember how she was when we got her.
Even now she has trust issues,and will lash out without warning.
Like when you move you're hand too fast,it's nothing personal,the mental scars run deep.
We believe she is 17 years now but we don't know for sure,she says words in English while we live in the Netherlands,so who knows where she has been.
Presently have six Greenwing Macaw (17 yo), Red Fronted Macaw (12 yo), Red Lored Amazon (17 y.o.), Lilac Crowned Amazon (about 43 y.o.) and a Congo African Grey (11 y.o.)
Panama Amazon (1 Y.O.)
Especially my red lored, right down to the biting the hand of the woman who hit her. Only they didn't try to make her a breeder, they took her to the vet to be destroyed....
Mine found a new home, that was better than their old home.
My guys are happy. At least while I'm alive.
And I've threatened to come back and "haunt" my daughter if she doesn't take care of them after I've gone... I'm coming back from the grave. ZOMBIE DAD!
I'm certainly tearing up right now. . But poems like this always help to remind me that animals are precious, and must be treated like so. All of them are truly gifts.
When my dogs get angry and bite me, or when my bird attacks me, whether its out of anger or fear, I always remember that it's never their fault, and that it's just natural behavior for them.
I breaks my heart when people mistreat animals out of anger. Or even worse, for "fun".