Wednesday, December 18, 2013

(Link) Pet Ravens and Crows. Really?

http://www.restarea1mile.com/ravens.html

This site was useful in that it confirmed quite a bit of what I have already learned and discovered about Fig.

Two things I completely disagree with the author about in addition to the very idea of having a pet corvid to begin with are feather trimming and poop in the bath.

Trimming a Crow's feathers to any degree cannot be the correct decision. I would not trim any bird's feathers in fact. I would like to state the previous sentence emphatically. Please don't cut birds feathers, instead learn to train, handle, manage and keep them safe. Because Fig is injured though I mulled over this for months, and finally decided that doing it would endanger Fig in a high glide, or fast descent in which Crows naturally break their fall by extending their wings to create a cushion of air, like a hovercraft, to land on. If you trim the feathers birds cannot safely break their fall, and they will get injured, breaking a wing, or breastbone, or a beak. I will try to post about managing birds without trimming their feathers another time.

If you have a pet Crow or Raven, which Fig is not, she is an injured bird that I am doing my level best to tame and care for, then you ought to have a large enough space for them to jump around and fly in. Fig cannot fly well, but she still has a large enough outdoor living space to exercise and fly in, and I still take her outside to do a measured amount of exercise, even in the winter.  I usually wrap her up in a scarf to warm her between runs, jumps, or short flights depending on what we are doing as having a broken wing makes it hard for her to keep as warm as she would normally.  She likes to run, while flapping her wings. She likes to fly up on low walls, benches, and me. She likes to climb trees, and other things. I am only beginning to understand how to meet her exercise needs as an injured, captive bird.

If I wanted a pet, I would get a parrot, NOT a corvid of any kind, they are very difficult to care for well. Parrots are from warm climates, with endless fruit to eat, so they can sit in the sofa all day. Crows are much more active, probably because they need to move to find food, and stay warm. They store up a lot of energy during the day, and become wound up like a dog if they are contained, even in a large aviary.  Been to the zoo? It's like that. Everyone feels sad looking at zoo animals. They need to be able to dissipate their naturally super high physical, and psychological energies. They cannot be caged, period. This is what I have discovered about Crows.  I raised Fig in a cage which gradually got bigger and bigger as she demanded it, and that was an intentional process implemented in hopes of helping her to adjust better psychologically to the imperfect captive bred situation she inevitably has to live with. It seems to have worked well, but even she could never be kept caged, she simply would not put up with it, so eventually the cage went. A corvid bird kept in a large aviary will still require time outside the enclosure to remain sane, they simply are not pets.

Regarding poop in the water. If your bird is pooping in the bath, or drinking water, tossing food around, or other messy things, then your bird is not happy. Listen, and make the necessary adjustments. If you do your bird will forgive you for your past crimes. Consider leaving the cage open at least when you are around. Birds often like their enclosures, they just don't enjoy feeling confined, ignored, or neglected. Fig has never pooped in her bath or drinking water, in part I suspect, because she grew up in a cage where she habituated to using a toilet tray, but it is also that her enclosure is large enough that she is not feeling too cramped, and that I keep a regular schedule to socialize with her morning afternoon, and evening, so she is not rebelling now. After the cage got tossed she has successfully retained the habit of using the tray as a toilet. You can train your bird to do this too. Place the toilet tray under their favorite place to sit. Set the tray back so it covers the space "behind" the perch. Corvids will naturally go to the bathroom in the same spot, in the same direction. Don't make the perch longer than the tray is wide, but don't suddenly change your set up either. If you have a long perch now, get a long tray, and gradually reduce the perch and tray size at the same time. The favorite perch is now the toilet spot. Give your bird another perch close to the toilet perch. They will eventually learn that the close perch is close enough to the favorite spot, that they will venture away from the toilet perch and sit there sometimes too, and they will feel not far enough away from the toilet perch to have an excuse not to habituate the toilet perch when they need to go to the bathroom. Corvids have a naturally guilty conscience; develop that, and use it to your advantage. In time they will become habituated to "going to the bathroom".  Your next challenge is to design a system of perches to get him or her off their favorite perch, out and about exercising independently. At first they will poop here and there a bit, but eventually they will stick to the toilet with a high or perfect score. If you make a big fuss about cleaning up, they will clean up their act because they don't like mom cleaning their room any more than you do; scrub away for ages with a big scowl of disapproval, and your big bum in their face and make them go sit somewhere off the favorite perch while you do it; they will clean up their act just to get you out of their life.

I will post more about exercise perch systems, as I am still learning and experimenting with Fig. More than likely though, your bird will willingly return to the toilet perch to do business as birds are creatures of habit just like you and me. Don't underestimate their desire for cleanliness, and personal space. Birds will usually only step in their own poop when fleeing.  Gradually the toilet perch can be made shorter and shorter, and the tray smaller and smaller too. You can install a simple filter system to continually flush the tray. I will post about how to construct this later.  For anyone considering a pet Corvid, Corvid poop and Parrot poop are two different things all together. For this reason, I cannot for the life of me understand why anyone would want to live with a Covid in the house unless they had a filtering toilet tray, and a well toilet-trained bird. If you don't have a pet corvid yet, please drop the idea, and get something more domestic suitable. Parrots will read a page of newspaper a day. A Crow will read the whole sports section, the funnys, and the the classified ads, and depending on what she eats, the smell is not pleasant because they eat meat. The consistency is also not a nice agreeable package like Parrot poop is. That is as poetically as I can put the topic. Please choose your companion bird wisely; there is nothing easy, or sensible about having a Corvid for a pet. It is just mean to the bird.

Thursday, December 12, 2013

(Link) Cornell Lab of Ornithology

Man, if you like birds, bird watching, ornithology, conservation, science, etc....
the Cornell Lab of Ornithology is THE place to be.

Please visit them on the web.

http://www.birds.cornell.edu/Page.aspx?pid=1478

Monday, December 9, 2013

Fan Mail for Fig: Where do you sleep?

Thank you for your question.

(Please see Rule 78 under post Fig's Rules and Regulations. I have updated Fig's sleeping arrangement explanation there since writing this post.)

This is a good question. It is not easy to answer, because the answer is continually evolving.

The short answer is, I sleep outside on a balcony. When it is cold, I sleep inside because my injured wing does not draw up snuggly to my body making it easier for me to get cold.

This is the long answer:

When I was first injured, I had to spend four weeks contained in a large box with only small windows to minimize my movement and stay warm while healing.  After that I spent three weeks in a half box, half cage. Then I moved into a full cage for about three months. The last few months I have lived "free"on my own balcony with limited freetime outside tethered and untethered doing survival training trying to learn to be more independent.

All of this time, despite four accomodation changes, I lived, and slept in pretty much the same spot. After a time, I decided that I wanted out of my hospital box, so I started to peck holes in it. After a time in the half box/half cage, I started to peck holes in that too. And then after a while, I started to rebel inside my full cage. So, Matt chucked out the cage, and gave me the whole balcony. In order to do that he had to build a fence to extend the height of the balcony wall about 50 cm, because I can jump up in the air about a meter and a half. So technically, I am confined, and free presently.

All this time, I have preferred certain places to sit, sleep, and go to the bathroom. Now that there is no box or cage, I still prefer and favor those places. I sit in my favorite spot. I sleep in my favorite spot. And I have chosen a convenient place to use as a toilet. I'm pretty smart. 

Now, when I was getting well, staying in one spot was favorable for a time. Matt had to be very careful that my feet did not get sore from standing in the same spot all day, day after day; Crows are not Parrots, we need to move around much more. Matt did a great job of caring for my feet by padding my perches, washing, and massaging my feet regularly, and taking me out for walks. He also designed different size, and shape perches to give my feet a full range of motion.

 Now that I have no cage, however, the problem of sore feet from standing still all day does not go away as you might suspect. Now my naturally high-energy state, and desire to move a lot, and my seemingly conflicting desire to stay in my prefered spots where I feel safe combine to do me in. You see, I want to move, because I need to move, but I want to stay safe because I am injured, and habituated to "familiar territory" I came to feel safe in during rehabilitation.  So, now I am very much at risk for a propensity to do repetetive movements over and over again like a zoo animal gone mad which will cause me to wear my foot pads down until they start to bleed. Forming and following pathways habitually is something animals do naturally in the wild, it is not bad, but in confinement, it becomes a big problem as following the same short path again and again leads to stress injuries, and mental boredom, eventually insanity. Fortunately, Matt has designed a system of perches which allow me to be me, but prevents me from unwittingly hurting myself.

My perches are still evolving, but the system which is working well for my feet, my regular exercise, and my sanity presently is this:
Each perch is a flat pine plank. Half the plank is flat. The other half is a round perch of various diameters raised just enough so I have to lift my leg about as high as it can go comfortably while maintaining level shoulders. Both halves are wrapped tightly 2-4 times with thick fleece. Some raised perches are level, some are at various angles. Got it? Now, if you watch wild Crows, you will notice that they jump around in trees a lot. They sometimes jump sideways, and sometimes they do a jump and a turn. Sometimes a movement is level, sometimes it is up or down. Matt is attempting to design the perch system on the balcony so that I get a natural mix of sideways/up, down, level movements,  forward/up, down, level movements and plenty of chances to do "the twist". It is a challenge and the system continually evolves, but for now things are working. Everyday, at least one of the perches is reversed, this forces me to devise new paths, and to exercise the other side of my body, and my brain. It makes me form new paths mentally, and play new games. It is important not to change things so dramatically, or suddenly, as that stresses me out a lot. You cannot just come to my house and rearrange all the furniture. Okay?   

Another problem is that I like to be where I like to be, and I like to be up. Most birds naturally like to be up. You will notice wild Jungle Crows sit high in the trees, or up on apartment buildings. We are virtually allergic to the ground, and if we do go to the ground we go in pair to take turns watching each other's backs. But, if Matt puts me up high, all I do all day is sit still, and get sore feet. It's like a bird sofa. If Matt puts me too far down though, I quickly get neurotic, and exhibit repetetive stress motion syndrome. So, Matt rather cleverly puts me half way up, or half way down, rather. This way I have some stress, which is enough to induce me to venture out onto the perch system and get a lot of daily exercise, which I would be getting if I could fly. This approach too is working very well, but it took some time to figure out, and is still evolving. Anyway, for now, my feet are very healthy. Matt does not even need to trim my finger nails anymore because they get natural wear during exercise. I am a very happy bird, but you may be interested to know a bit more about bird psychology.

Because I came to my adoptive family as a full grown fledged bird, what is referred to as a passage bird in falconry terminology, I don't behave like a baby acting like Matt is my mother; instead I have a fully developed sense of myself, and the relationship I have with Matt is one of developing trust, and a bond, and respect, and maybe love one day, we'll see after a couple of years. So far, my degree of trust for Matt, my bond with him, and my respect for him leave something to be desired in his eyes. He says I am too independent for my age. Every adult says that about their kids. Whatever. Anyway, because I consider myself an adult, I don't mind sleeping by myself, but I want to sleep where I want, and I have a large list of demands which must be met, or I self destruct quickly, literally. You see, the fact is, the big scary bird everyone thinks the Crow is, is in fact the biggest, chicken in the whole world. Very few people have any idea about this fact and think us Crows are frightening, scary beasts. Nothing could be more untrue. It is the silliest idea ever. 

I just do not like anything to change, and I am highly suspicious of anything new. These are traits humans share with Crows. It is why we survive and thrive. This paranoid wariness is mostly my nature but in my case this personality trait is much worse because I am captive, and because I live with an permanent injury, I know it, and it makes me live in fear for my safety moment to moment, day in, day out. Matt understands that because he gave me his blood, sweat and tears. In fact, Matt cared for my infection, open wound, and broken bone daily for seven weeks straight day and night, living with grave uncertainty, and not a lot of medical assistance forth coming, even so I sort of developed the idea after a while that he was torturing me, so that also makes me a bit more on edge than I might be normally. Let me give you a few examples.  If Matt wears a bandaid on his hand, I ask him to take it off. It's not usually there, so I won't have it. That's just the way it goes. It isn't that I don't trust Matt, I just don't trust the bandaid! Matt said that a part of Crow intelligence is being capable of imagining what might happen in the future, so we are able to plan in advance. Apparently, we also have very active imaginations, as I am often guilty of wondering what Matt might be planning to do, to me, for example, with that strange bandaid thingie on his finger. Fortunately, this paranoia, which we are all hoping will go away over time, is localized to the bathroom area where I was treated for my injuries. Also, there are places where I want to be, and places I don't. I can move about, but there is a time limit before I have to get back to my favorite place, or I freak out. Once Matt left me in the shower a little longer than he usually does, so I pulled all the feathers off my leg, and they took months to grow back in. In my mind, change means the end might be near, and it makes me panic because all my natural defenses are gone. So the answer to your question is, I sleep where I want, when I want, how I want, which is on two legs, hunkered down in my favorite spot on a soft blanket. Usually that is outside on my favorite flat perch, but recently my adoptive family is kind enough to let me sleep in out of the winter cold in the the shower room, and even I am smart enough to know that a warm place is better than a cold one, so I agreed not to pluck feathers from my leg. However, someone left a small bag of garbage out on my balcony the other day, if you can believe that, which I did not appreciate, so just to remind them of that fact, I pulled a small patch of feathers about the size of a shirt button out of my leg again. I just like to remind everyone from time to time, that I am the one with hollow bones in the family. And, in case you missed it just there, Crows do not necessarily like your stinky garbage, especially when it is in our living room.

Here is a picture of my favorite perch being constructed. I like to sleep on the flat side. Please note that the screws must be recessed to prevent me from pecking the metal, and harming my beak. I love pecking the wood, tearing the fleece off, putting my favorite toy, which is a toothbrush under the round perch, and bringing food here so I can relax while I eat. Note that up for me is about twice as high as this, because I grew up in a box, and a cage, so the hight of this perch represents half way up in my mind. I have a variety of perches like this which I love to jump side to side, to and fro, up and down, and twist on. Matt will post more about my perches another day.










Figgy's Injuries

I was injured in the nest; I got an ingrown feather near my right elbow which became very badly infected after I pecked at it. My arm swelled as gangrene set in, pulling the skin tighter and tighter. The open wound was on my elbow, and as my arm swelled the wound hole slipped up and over much of my elbow joint, exposing it. In addition, the wound bled a lot, and the blood dried, sticking my wing to my body. At 4-5 weeks of age when I fledged, I jumped from 12 stories up, and fell straight down because my right wing was only able to partially open. In the fall I broke my right humerus about a centimeter from my elbow joint. It is natural when birds fall too fast to the ground for them to break their fall by opening their wings, thereby creating a cushion of air, like underneath a hovercraft, unfortunately, this very natural survival reaction cost me a broken bone because my wing would not extend. Anyway, eventually, I lost the entire elbow joint and the loose bit of my humerus which broke off. Due to the highly progressed infection at the time I was rescued, there was no chance to save the joint. It was actually fortunate that my humerus broke because it allowed my elbow joint to dry and fall off neatly. I was very lucky not to lose my right wing, or die from infection. It was a tough two month fight, but I survived with both wings, and now I can even fly a little horizontally, and glide downward. In fact, I enjoy regular flying exercise, both on my own in my living space, and with Matt. I can only fly up about one meter and a half, including jumping, but with a bit of flapping I can climb and scale trees, poles, and buildings and other textured obstructions better than you might think. I I can only glide down safely from a height of 3-4 stories, but I seem to understand this, and I usually won't climb to a dangerous height. Also, I am only able to retract my wing partially, so it is a little bit difficult for me to keep as warm as I'd like when it's cold. In short, I could never survive on my own, but I am trying hard to learn to be somewhat independent; I need lots of daily, special care and love, all of which you can read about more and more, right here. 

Here are some gruesome pictures of my infection, and injury for anyone interested in the medical side of things. This is my elbow at the time I was rescued. This picture was taken after two one hour long soapy baths to separate my wing from my body which was glued fast with a large amount of dried festering blood. The black mass you see if you look carefully is the cartilage of my elbow joint which is superficially dried out; the bones are all infected and gangrenous. The swelling was dramatic; usually the upper arm is about pencil width.
The second picture below is seven weeks later. The skin managed to grow in under the joint, and pinch off all of the cartilage. A small detached bit of humerus also managed to fall out of the wound. It was a very stressful, and challenging two months of daily care for me, and for Matt. Without any free medical care available for a Crow, Matt was left to care for me on his own. Fortunately he has quite a bit of experience, but this was the worst injury he has ever treated. Uncertainty loomed everyday for weeks while we fought back the infection together. A vet would most likely have amputated my wing, so the fact that Matt used a low tech approach to fight back infection, drying my joint two to three times per day for 20-60 minutes, with only a warm hair dryer and a bit of iodine solution actually ended with a much better result for me, because now I still have both wings, and some limited flight, and I can keep warm. If my humerus had not broken, I am not sure I could have healed as I did, so actually breaking that bone was a bit of luck too. You may need to scroll down to see the second picture, our computer is wonky.





























Tuesday, December 3, 2013

Free App & Lists for Bird Watchers

Peterson Backyard Birds is a great free App for anyone interested in bird watching. 


And...petersonguides.com has downloadable checklists of birds you can see each week in every US, and Canadian county! 

http://petersonguides.com/mobile/birdfinder.html

Isn't it strange how so many people have names that fit their work?
Roger Tory Peterson...tory is the Japanese word for bird!