No, this isn't a belated Halloween post. I've just been getting weirded-out by the increasingly bizarre news stories coming out of Washington, San Francisco and, yes, even Antigua and Barbados, so I've decided to write about my gray-and-white parakeet, Boo. (See photo on sidebar!)
His proper name is Birdie Boo, but he also responds to Boo-Boo, Baby Boo, Sweetie Boo — and nearly anything else I call him, as long as it contains the name Boo.
I purchased Boo at a local pet shop a couple of years ago. I'd fully intended to get a standard green-and-yellow parakeet, but the green birds the shop had were splotchy to the point of being unattractive — to my eye, at least. However, there in the middle of the top perch, tucked in among assorted blues and greens, was a little guy who looked like he was wearing formal white tails. He immediately stole my heart, and I knew he was the bird for me!
Boo has a light gray-and-white breast, dark gray back and pure white wings and tail — an absolutely gorgeous little bird, as you can clearly see! He scolded like crazy while waiting in the little cardboard box for me to pay for him but then didn't open his mouth for six months after I got him home.
Now, however, I can't shut him up and he's a regular showoff! He loves music — almost any kind, loves to play on his homemade play tree (a black walnut sapling) with it's assortment of toys, enjoys conversing with his outdoor sparrow friends, and is fond of taking naps while sitting on my hand. When I use the desktop PC in "his" room, he plays on the keyboard, and when I write on my laptop, he perches on the rim of the lid and twitters away as I type.
Boo is particularly fond of molting/conditioning food, which purports to enhance feather color. I believe it, for my little gray-and-white bird now has a small cobalt blue patch of feathers on his rump and a slightly blue cast to some of the feathers on one side. But I let him eat the stuff, anyway, because for him, it's like ice cream.
His favorite treats are dandelion leaves and stems of grass seeds plucked straight from the front yard. In wintertime, a bit of lettuce or apple or broccoli will do.
He loves to show off his acrobatic skills, which he hones by practicing on a string of 8 interlocking plastic rings. He especially enjoys being praised for his prowess when he sits in the topmost ring. If I don't happen to notice him, he'll sit there patiently and whistle at me until I turn around and applaud his marvelous feat.
Oh, yes, and he talks. But only when he wants to! He has quite a repertoire: Boo's a pretty boy! (His favorite, and often accompanied by a wolf whistle.) Birdie-boo. Hello! You wait here! (That one's a long story…) Boo's a big boy! and various other jabberings. You never know just what will come out of that sassy little beak!
Just now, he's out of his cage and has decided it's nap time. He has settled on my left forefinger, making it particularly difficult to type. Somehow, his feather-light weight and warm little bird feet are comforting. He has just pulled one foot up and tucked his beak into the feathers of his back. That he trusts me enough to sleep that way on my hand makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
You might not think that such a tiny creature could be a good companion, but you'd be wrong. He's an enjoyable little feathered friend!
© 2008 by Libbi Adams. All rights reserved.
His proper name is Birdie Boo, but he also responds to Boo-Boo, Baby Boo, Sweetie Boo — and nearly anything else I call him, as long as it contains the name Boo.
I purchased Boo at a local pet shop a couple of years ago. I'd fully intended to get a standard green-and-yellow parakeet, but the green birds the shop had were splotchy to the point of being unattractive — to my eye, at least. However, there in the middle of the top perch, tucked in among assorted blues and greens, was a little guy who looked like he was wearing formal white tails. He immediately stole my heart, and I knew he was the bird for me!
Boo has a light gray-and-white breast, dark gray back and pure white wings and tail — an absolutely gorgeous little bird, as you can clearly see! He scolded like crazy while waiting in the little cardboard box for me to pay for him but then didn't open his mouth for six months after I got him home.
Now, however, I can't shut him up and he's a regular showoff! He loves music — almost any kind, loves to play on his homemade play tree (a black walnut sapling) with it's assortment of toys, enjoys conversing with his outdoor sparrow friends, and is fond of taking naps while sitting on my hand. When I use the desktop PC in "his" room, he plays on the keyboard, and when I write on my laptop, he perches on the rim of the lid and twitters away as I type.
Boo is particularly fond of molting/conditioning food, which purports to enhance feather color. I believe it, for my little gray-and-white bird now has a small cobalt blue patch of feathers on his rump and a slightly blue cast to some of the feathers on one side. But I let him eat the stuff, anyway, because for him, it's like ice cream.
His favorite treats are dandelion leaves and stems of grass seeds plucked straight from the front yard. In wintertime, a bit of lettuce or apple or broccoli will do.
He loves to show off his acrobatic skills, which he hones by practicing on a string of 8 interlocking plastic rings. He especially enjoys being praised for his prowess when he sits in the topmost ring. If I don't happen to notice him, he'll sit there patiently and whistle at me until I turn around and applaud his marvelous feat.
Oh, yes, and he talks. But only when he wants to! He has quite a repertoire: Boo's a pretty boy! (His favorite, and often accompanied by a wolf whistle.) Birdie-boo. Hello! You wait here! (That one's a long story…) Boo's a big boy! and various other jabberings. You never know just what will come out of that sassy little beak!
Just now, he's out of his cage and has decided it's nap time. He has settled on my left forefinger, making it particularly difficult to type. Somehow, his feather-light weight and warm little bird feet are comforting. He has just pulled one foot up and tucked his beak into the feathers of his back. That he trusts me enough to sleep that way on my hand makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
You might not think that such a tiny creature could be a good companion, but you'd be wrong. He's an enjoyable little feathered friend!
© 2008 by Libbi Adams. All rights reserved.
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