National Bird Day

I slept badly again last night. It took me ages to drift off, and when I finally did, a wee man got into my head and stirred my brains to a porridge-like consistency. He did it quickly, though, because he only had an hour. I had to get up early to see Mr. Snagglebeak to the vet's. On that front, at least, I was pleasantly surprised: the little guy is doing much better than expected. Just recently, it seemed he wasn't long for this world. Now, his face has cleared up almost entirely, his beak is growing in straight and hard, and his feet are covered in a healthy layer of new skin. Even his plucked-out feathers are coming back. Who knew there'd be such a pretty bird under that scaly face? At any rate, he's got one last mite treatment on the eighteenth, and that'll be him set.

On a related note, I learned via 10000 Birds that tomorrow is National Bird Day. The Avian Welfare Coalition would like to remind folks that exotic birds aren't well-suited for captivity, and shouldn't be sold as pets. I'd like to add my own two cents on that front, seeing as how my flat is currently infested with other people's cast-off birds:

Right. So, here are the good things about having pet birds--

1) Birds are sweet and melodious creatures, which fill the air with delightful tunes during the day. At night, they can be conveniently switched off with a towel over their cage.

2) Birds come in all sorts of pretty colours. Nothing livens up a room like a box of vibrant feathers.

3) Birds are friendly and gentle, and enjoy human companionship. A bird pops out of his egg ready to rub his head on your chin and burble sweet nothings in your ear, and as long as you keep his wings neatly clipped, you can carry him around on your shoulder all day.

4) Birds are easy to maintain. Give 'em a perch and a mirror, and they'll amuse themselves all day long. Plus, all they eat is birdseed, which you can get for a dollar a pound down the hardware store.

5) Birds are a great budget pet. Although the larger parrots can run in the thousands of dollars, you can get all sorts of finches and parrotlets for twenty bucks or less.

--all of which, of course, are complete bollocks.

Birds are sweet and melodious creatures--and I'm Sherlock Holmes. Ever spent an afternoon at the beach, or had a picnic lunch? Ever walked by a Dumpster on trash day? Remember that rowdy assortment of squawks, caws, croaks, and screeches? That was birds making that racket. And if you think the local lot are awful, you're going to hate anything in the parrot family. Macaws scream. Cockatoos croak. Even the unassuming budgerigar can squawk like you wouldn't believe. Think you'd prefer the delicate whistle of a finch or canary? Think again--get a few of that sort together, and what you've got is a canary cacophony. Oh, and you can forget the towel-over-the-cage bit. Sure, it'll quiet them down some, but the only way to keep your nights entirely peep-free is not to keep birds in the house.

Birds come in all sorts of pretty colours. Oh, come on. Half these birds don't even match themselves, let alone your living room. Those blazing neons certainly don't do a thing for mine.

Birds are friendly and gentle, and enjoy human companionship--occasionally. That friendly cockatoo at the Rainforest Café, the chattering budgies at the pet shop, your grandma's affectionate parrot, those are rare birds, indeed. They've probably been hand-raised, hand-fed, and lavished with love and attention for years. You can't buy a bird "off the rack," so to speak, and expect him to hop on your shoulder. (And if he does, he probably means to peck your ear.) The best way to get a bird to like you is to deprive him of the company of other birds, so he's only got one choice when he needs affection. Lovely thing to do, that. Very kind.

If that's not discouragement enough, remember that birds aren't just bright eyes and vivid feathers. There are beaks in there, too. When attached to the larger parrots, those beaks can rip the skin clean off your fingers. Quite gruesome, what?

Birds are easy to maintain, much like Pamela Anderson's body. That is, if you like shelling out for fancy diets, pricey medical procedures, and lavish accommodations, a bird might just be for you. According to the bird-care books I've been reading since the Passel of Packbawkies landed, birds need fresh fruit, fresh vegetables, specially formulated pellet mixes, seasonal vitamin and mineral supplements, occasional servings of meat, supplemental calcium and vitamin D, and various treats and tidbits to tickle their palates. They need a daily dose of direct sunlight, unfiltered by windows (or, failing that, full-spectrum light of some sort), fresh air, and frequent baths. They need plenty of exercise, and plenty of recreation. Recreation, for a bird, means a constant stream of new and exciting toys, out-of-cage exploration time in a safe environment, and social interaction with other birds.

Then, there's hygiene to consider. A tiny parakeet uses the toilet once every fifteen minutes, or thereabouts. That's four shites an hour, ninety-six shites a day, six-hundred and seventy-two shites a week, times four birds is two-thousand, six-hundred and eighty-eight horrible, dirty bird-droppings. Though some of these droppings will end up in the catch-tray where they belong, others will fly through the air, bounce off the walls, and bespatter your flat. There will be bird droppings on the floor, on the curtains, on the television set, and stuck like barnacles on the bars of the cage. You, lucky sod that you are, will get to clean these up every couple of days for the rest of your bird's natural life.

Ah, yes. Your bird's natural life. Did I mention that budgies can last more than twenty years, cockatiels more than thirty, and the larger parrots more than fifty? If you kept just one budgie from first pawk to last croak, that would be more than seven hundred thousand bird-turds, all for you.

Birds are a great budget pet, if you're Bill bloody Gates. I've had my squawkers all of a fortnight, and check out the bill:

One decent-sized flight cage (30" x 18" x 61") - $187
One extra cage, to house a sick bird during his recovery - $80
Special flight cage platforms for same sick bird - $23
Two sturdy clip-bowls, for food and water - $11
A mixed bag of mirrors, bells, swings, and chew-toys - $27
Three kinds of seed - $30
Bird pellets, one large sack - $30
Veterinary care, four days' worth - $247
Follow-up ivermectin treatments (2) - $100
Pet taxi to and from the vet (2) - $75
Fresh fruit and veg - $18
Total - $828

That was my Playstation 3 fund, right there, plus this month's grocery pool. Motherfucker! These birds are chowing down on fresh beans and berries, and I'm having canned soup. (Truth be known, I'd be having canned soup anyway, but I might've wanted a steak. I could want a steak. It's been ages since I've had a steak.)

If you like birds, for the love of heaven, get yourself some binoculars and enjoy them in their natural habitats. You can gawk all you like free of charge, and there's no cleaning involved. You won't have to pay any vet's bills, or bandage your own poor, pecked fingers. You can have all the joys of bird ownership without any of the hassles. Why make a fifteen- to fifty-year commitment to just one bird, when you can have quick and passionate encounters with ten thousand?

Don't forget, the same goes for any other exotic animal you might fancy banging up in a cage. Giant rats, badgers, skunks, tigers, weasels, snakes, frogs, lizards, and llamas are not pets, either. Same goes for wolves, and double for lions. Remember, even if you never get bitten, you're still preventing your animal from having the life it deserves. Get a cat or a dog, or even a domestic rat, instead. Those guys like having people around.