Abstract
In December 2008, my then 13-year old daughter and I traveled to Washington, DC to hear a talk about Afri-
can Grey parrots at the Smithsonian's National Zoological Park. My daughter's love affair with birds-especially parrots and songbirds-began at the age of nine.
A family acquaintance spoke that evening, as did his African Grey par-
rot. After the lecture, my daughter and I casually mentioned that knowing the life span of greys, if his parrot ever needed a home in the future, we would certainly welcome her into our flock.
Fast forward to June of 2010, and there I was driving into the District to pick up 23-year old Toby. The bird owner needed the summer to finish some projects, give some lectures, and do some traveling. My own daughter, then 15, had been recently diagnosed with POTS (postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome) and faced a summer of feeling lousy. I knew the Grey would be a wonderful companion and distraction. We dubbed the Grey a therapy bird not truly understanding what would lie or lay ahead.
Toby had already appeared on the pages of the Washington Post. The family thought the bird was male and so it carries a masculine name. The fa~ade was shattered several years ago when the bird laid an egg. And, while the sexual identity was confirmed with that event, over the course of 23 years, the bird had produced a total of three eggs.
The car ride north was quite funny.
The Grey, sitting in her cage in the front seat, was wide-eyed for most of the drive. And, she evoked several chuckles at the various toll booths along the way.
Toby then arrived in New Jersey, to a house with two Jen day conures, a Senegal parrot and one, rescued, long-haired dachshund.
Settling into her new camp grounds took less than twenty-four hours. Soon the Grey was on the floor walking around, checking out the territory, and delivering orders.
As most people know from the work oflrene Pepperberg, and her parrot Alex, African grey parrots are skilled talk-
ers. They can mimic language and use it appropriately. It's a talent that is fascinating and unsettling all at the same time.
If someone had food that the Grey wanted, the commands were: "Here!" Or, "You want it?"
Her favorite treat? Chips-Ahoy cookies (she gets reduced fat!). And she'd ask:
"Wanna cookie?" And while parrots are not supposed to eat chocolate, this bird had dined on chocolate chip cookies since her youth. Go figure.
Greys also have some sort of attraction or connection to dogs. Stories about Greys ordering pet dogs around abound among bird owners. Our visitor was no exception. She looked at the dachshund and say: C'mere. The dachshund, who had already endured a couple of bites from one of the Jendays, wore a look of panic. There was not only a beak in front of her, but a beak that could beckon her! The dog ran.
And, if we did something to offend the Grey, she was quick to respond. Consider this moment:
Location: The family computer space Scene: My husband is sitting at his computer, flip-flops off and feet up on a stool. Toby, having lowered herself from her cage, is roaming around the floor looking for something interesting to do. She spied the flip flops-ah, something fun to chew!
Our daughter: Dad, the bird is after your flip-flops!
Husband: (Completely lost in something on the screen.)
Me: Hey, better defend your flip-flops. My husband emerges from his computer stupor and moves his feet off the stool. As one foot comes down, it brushes against Toby.
Husband: Sorry bird. The Grey: Dope!