Fig has become much more talkie, and communicative over the past year. She now communicates all her needs well. She can clearly communicate vocally using Crow language which means: I want food, I want water, I want affection, I want a shower, I want to go to sleep now/I missed you/I'm thrilled to see you, You are my pal, I'm afraid of something, I was afraid/Where were you?, I was lonely, I'm angry, I see the cat, What is that unfamiliar thing? Let me see that/That is interesting. She also communicates using English hello, and I love you in appropriate situations. She uses body language to communicate joy, and fear, and worry to talk about present, past and future.
She has gotten very communicative. Singing long, varied, intricate love songs to me in the morning, and in the afternoons blinking her eyelids, fluffing the nape of her neck, and her crown like a Cockatoo. Most recently she has taken to flicking her tail down when she serenades like a mechanical Cuckoo, which is rather cute.
She continues to add calls to her vocabulary. She picks some of them up from the local wild Crows, but she also is trying harder and harder to mimick words and sounds I utter to her as a lullaby, to calm her. She remains incredibly emotional, and high strung. The other day I had her on my arm in the bathroom, and she fell asleep while I was whispering sounds and review vocabulary to her. Suddenly she startled and fell into the sink. That almost never happens, a dangerous startle, but as an example, that is the nature of the beast I am trying to calm. She gets better and better with time. These first two years have been dangerous indeed, because Fig's natural high strung state makes her a perpetual hazard to herself. Fortunately, she is vastly improved socially, and that will continue, but I can never forget her nature, or she could easily injure herself horribly at any moment. You might get away with stepping on your dog a few times, or tripping over the cat, but you can't afford mistakes handling birds, and wild ones are like race horses; they need constant assurance, communication, and calming. It's a never ending worryfest for me, but I have to admit it is rather addicting in a co-dependency sort of a way. I wonder if taking care of Fig is making my life drastically shorter, or if she is keeping me more alive?
Recently Fig has added a high pitched Wa to her vocabluary. I think I have heard the wild female I observe in my local park making this call in the afternoons to announce gathering, or evening migration to another area for the family youngsters.
She has gotten very communicative. Singing long, varied, intricate love songs to me in the morning, and in the afternoons blinking her eyelids, fluffing the nape of her neck, and her crown like a Cockatoo. Most recently she has taken to flicking her tail down when she serenades like a mechanical Cuckoo, which is rather cute.
She continues to add calls to her vocabulary. She picks some of them up from the local wild Crows, but she also is trying harder and harder to mimick words and sounds I utter to her as a lullaby, to calm her. She remains incredibly emotional, and high strung. The other day I had her on my arm in the bathroom, and she fell asleep while I was whispering sounds and review vocabulary to her. Suddenly she startled and fell into the sink. That almost never happens, a dangerous startle, but as an example, that is the nature of the beast I am trying to calm. She gets better and better with time. These first two years have been dangerous indeed, because Fig's natural high strung state makes her a perpetual hazard to herself. Fortunately, she is vastly improved socially, and that will continue, but I can never forget her nature, or she could easily injure herself horribly at any moment. You might get away with stepping on your dog a few times, or tripping over the cat, but you can't afford mistakes handling birds, and wild ones are like race horses; they need constant assurance, communication, and calming. It's a never ending worryfest for me, but I have to admit it is rather addicting in a co-dependency sort of a way. I wonder if taking care of Fig is making my life drastically shorter, or if she is keeping me more alive?
Recently Fig has added a high pitched Wa to her vocabluary. I think I have heard the wild female I observe in my local park making this call in the afternoons to announce gathering, or evening migration to another area for the family youngsters.
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