Update on Parasites

Fig has been parasite free-ish for months. I'll pick up a feather lice once or twice a week at most. She picks them up from bushes and trees. But I am proud to say she has remained nearly parasite free, especially because I have managed to do that without the use of anything other than my hands and bathing her with warm water, no easy task.

I go through Fig's feathers with my finger tips to frighten any hangers-on out into the open where they can be spotted on a white tee-shirt easily. Thankfully she loves being massaged all over.  And she takes a few baths and showers each day, a couple on her own, and a couple with me. She's a water buffalo with feathers. She uses a whooooole lot of very expensive water. A hippo could get by on less.

But summer is almost here, and that is going to be hot and humid, and really test my all natural parasite management approach, as feather mites absolutely thrive in the hot, humid air in Japan. I have no idea how wild birds tolerate the relentless little buggers, but I suspect being out in direct sunlight all day, taking dust baths, ant baths, and water baths is their strategy. In large part, Pigeons and Doves, Sparrows, and White Cheeked Starling and Crows are what you see in Fukuoka on land in summer, and these birds have the advantage of being darkly colored, dust bathers, or practically semi-aquatic water bathing fanatics.

I keep studied up on parasites of both the inside and out sorts, and regularly check for external, and internal parasites to the best of my knowledge and ability which continues to expand. I am very proud that Fig is healthy, and not riddled with nibbling blood thirsty pests. Feather mites are a major irritation to anyone who has to handle a bird. They get up in your hair and walk around like they've had ten cups of coffee and can't find a comfortable chair. Being able to hold Fig, kiss and cuddle her, and carry her around for hours at a time without lousy louses scampering off onto me is great, but admittedly it took me a good year and a half to learn how to...preen like a bird, literally. It is an odd skill which I suspect I will never need to put on a resume.

Look Who Understands English

So, here is something new and intriguing. Today, my son says to me in half Japanese half English in the hallway, "Are we taking Fig to the park?" because I had set her tethers out in the hall. Fig had not seen the tethers, and they make no noise like a dog's leash might; she had only heard what my son said, and she started jumping up and down excitedly immediately in the manner that she does when she has seen her tethers. She only does that behavior if she sees her tethers.

Apparently, she has figured out what "Fig" and "park" mean.

Park Behavior Update

I have taken Fig to the park more often recently, and the extra together time really makes a difference. She is still a naughty scamp, up to trouble, but once she calms down, there are encouraging signs of, dare I write, "good behavior"? Yeah, I think I can write that.

She still misbehaves quite a lot, but she continues to grow as a listener, and instruction follower. I have taken the mental attitude that Fig is an actual child, of approximately the mental age of a real two year old. I mean, a human two year old will run in front of a car, if you don't watch it, right? Well, Fig would be so bold given the right amount of hyperactive excitement. I'd say she is much much more sensible than an average human two year old when she calms down, or becomes untethered, but tethered, she seems to act out, much like children who might walk safely to school left on their own, start dashing in front of cement trucks when accompanied by their parents. It is displacement of responsibility, clear as day.  She feels invincible when she is tethered because, I am protecting her. That's not necessarily a good thing, so I am working very hard to instill good listening, and control protocol. She simply cannot dash whenever she likes. Wherever is less of a concern. She has several favorite routes to run at the park, so thankfully, where she is likely to go is highly predictable.

Once she has calmed down a bit though, and is in a familiar park, she seems to recognize and obey the boundaries I have enforced for her. She goes to a fence at the edge of the park, or a wall, or a rock, or a jungle gym, but she remains within the park. She is smart enough to know what a park is, and that it has boundaries. She consistently comes back to me, obeying hand gestures, which are requests, NOT commands. I never touch her, or push her, I just ask, wanna come back to me? She is running away from me less and less, though I don't chase her, I simply stay close. And she comes down from, or avoids going to high places if I tell her NO when I see her eye wander. She understands NO.

It would be so easy for her to break a leg, wing, beak, coming to the end of her tether, or snagging it on a root, or whatever, so I have taken to simply letting her free fly, dragging the tether along when she decides to have a furiously fast flighty flight or run. Hopefully over time I can wean her off it totally, but that is something that will take another year or two I suspect, at a natural pace.

Fig seems utterly indestructible though. She leaps and hops and flies around like crazy, at fighter plane pace. She's utterly Jackie Chan extreme. And she does crash hard from time to time, but she just dusts herself off and gets back in the saddle. She is seriously a very tough animal in a way that I will never fully comprehend. I mean, when I hold her in my hand, on her back, or side, or tummy, her little birdy body is really no bigger than a large Pigeon, but her feet are as strong as a damn Eagle, and if she grips onto my hand really tight, it can hurt badly even days afterwards. She can leave a bruise as though a hefty lady in high heels had stepped onto the ball of your hand, easily. 

She is flying with incredible confidence now, and can manage 6 meters straight no problem at all. I can toss her a good 4-5 meters straight up in the air and she glides to a soft perched landing. I have no idea how she manages to be so active without an elbow joint in one arm. She is just amazing. There remains no way what-so-ever that she could have even half a chance of surviving on her own. She'd be hawk, or cat food in minutes. But she clearly thinks that she can take on the world. All her flying practice on our balcony has really done wonders for her physical health, though her pectoral muscles are rather meager by wild Crow standards, but more importantly, Fig is startlingly mentally confident, and up beat. As her parent, that is all I want to see.

Stress Test for Travel

I had the chance to travel with Fig for 18hours. I thought she would totally freak out. Instead she just went with the flow. Aside from sleeping in a different sleep box than usual she travels very well. It seems that the more alien her environment becomes, the more she simply kicks back and puts her trust in me. I even limited her food intake, and stretched time between drinks of water without complaint. I am certain if I ever have to take her on an airplane she will travel quietly, and calmly. She lost a little bit of sleep, which was obvious from her sleepiness the following morning, but I simply put her back to bed in the morning, and she woke up excited, and even crazier than usual, after a few extra hours in familiar surrounds, perhaps because she was happy to be home again. I thought for sure I'd end up covered in poop, with Fig losing her mind in panic, but she just cuddled up to me and enjoyed the wind in her hair.
It was a reassuring experience. 

A Little Scarecrow Bathroom Humor Anyone?

• a. An ornithologist's personal flotation device.
  b. Something I'd have bought if not for the inflated price tag.
  c. A Crow that ate one too many trash bags.
  d. Something to protect inflatable vegetables.
  e. An omen of impending deflation.
  f. A popular item at Raven raves, and bachelor parties.

  

Caw-bonara Anyone?

Just thought you should know, Crows like their pasta al dente. That's why Fig has only nibbled these; they are too soft. It's like a shark attack!

Hmming and Cawing about Feathery Fashion

I have to say, while I am not a big fan of the clothing industry, or fashion in general, H&M deserves a bit of kudos for their kids' fashions from time to time, and not necessarily for their designs so much as for their attitude. They take chances. Push the envelope. Make bold choices. Why? Beak caws! Bravo!!! This displeased gentleman Raven t-shirt I'm raving about has a big silver beak! Fantastic!!

Happy Birthday Fig!

Happy Birthday Figgy!

Fig turned the big 2 on April 7th.

We are all very proud of you and overjoyed to have you as a member of our unconventional happy family.

Fig does not live an ideal life, but she has a consistent diet, regular socialization, her own living space, and a reliable schedule.  She is bonded to me, and fully adjusted and adapted to her life as a disabled captive bred bird.

Here she is enjoying a long sit out on a park bench where she gets swarms of attention from local kids and adults who always ask, though they must have seen thousands of them, "Is that a Crow?" The second question is almost always, "Did you catch it?" and the third, "What does she eat?" Then, comments like, "Cute, huh?" because Fig is rather unexpectedly cute; she has quite a cute face with pretty, feminine eyes. Sometimes people say, "Scary!" But most people want to stop and have a good close look because it is fascinating to see a Crow so close up, sitting still, interacting with people, so you can actually get a good look. The wild ones rarely let you get close for long. They are indeed deeply mysterious people, though they live among us day in and day out. They inspire awe and wonder because we live in parallel universes that seldom intersect. And while we often have the chance to look across the gap between, everyone's personal knowledge remains like a quilt sewn of patches gathered from friends. I live with a Crow, and still, I am studying the depths of her complexities, with quiet respect, and admiration.. It is a privilege and honor to care for Fig, and I think it is important too. She was injured by our careless, artificial world.. It is our fault. We are planning to go to Mars, and on such an endeavor, I imagine every item brought must be valued, recycled, thought very deeply about because every drop of water, every breath of air, every nibble of food, could be our last, yet we do not give our home, our own selves, or the animals we share the Earth with such due consideration...and it's the same scenario playing out. It's...scary!

Now, what does one get for a Crow for her birthday?

Note on Chatter

It occurs to me that when a cat, or a dog, or another human person is talking to me, in general, the purpose or intended goal of communication is pretty obvious; food, water, attention, play, go for a walk, what have you. But bird communication, for whatever reasons, is not always so direct, or explicit, because they often chatter. As far as birds go, there is a fine line between playing with vocalization, and communicating; at times it is difficult to tell which one is hearing.  

Birds spend quite a lot of time, especially in proximity with others, chattering, muttering, grumbling, babbling like babies, gurgling, rehearsing, reciting, singing, yodeling, etc… and it all makes for interesting listening, and a good read on a bird’s mood or state of mind, but it can make understanding them a bit confusing. I do not have any easy way to tell which is which. Usually, if I can’t catch an immediate intended meaning, I’ll just tilt my head, huh? What was that? But in my experience”, if you suspect you are receiving “static”, not communicative language, it is best to gurgle back, very softly mimicking along, or just to listen in quietly, and try not to interrupt their train of “thought” or lack thereof as much as possible during these mutter times.

I hypothesize that birds do quite a bit of what other animals usually do when sleeping, while they are awake, in a day dream state, relaxing after a bath, or a meal. After all, other animals can sleep all night, and much of the day, but most birds sleep at night, and remain awake during the full length of the day, for safety, and foraging. So perhaps the chatter is a relaxed, sleepy state activity. We have all heard cats, dogs and humans talking incomprehensible in sleep after all.

Interesting Tidbits?

So many surprising and interesting things happen with Fig. I try to write them down so I don't forget, but inevitably some things slip through the cracks of my ineptitude. Still, here are a few snippets of Crow life.

I recently realized, when some wild Crows were making a loud ruckus, probably over the hatching of eggs this Spring (that seems to get them very excited like a collection of relatives crammed into a delivery room at the hospital)....anyway, I recently realized that I could "shush" Fig with rather good success. She was calling out to the noisy congregation, joining in, and waking the neighbors, and I simply went out, and lowered my head, and said, hey, shhhh, and she did. She just shut up completely. I think she thought I was trying to tell her, hey don't talk to those guys, they're dangerous! which they are, which she knows, but had momentarily forgotten in all the excitement. Anyway, she's like, Oh, right, gotcha boss, and clammed right up for the rest of the morning. I was like, good girl! And she was like, no worries. She has a very accurate read of my facial expressions, and hand gestures which amazes me no end.

Lots of interesting communication takes place in the shower. The other day I had to take my son to class, so I took a shower, and gave Fig a shower, but I did not have time to give her the deluxe face wash, head massage, preen that she's has come to expect. So I took my son to class and came back. Fig is yelling AWA AWA at me which means she wants her shower and face wash time together. Fig had already had a shower, fifteen minutes previously, and was still somewhat wet, so I very lazily sat down to give her her usual 15-20minute spa facial while she slept on my knee with my hands dipped in warm water. I get one minute in, and Fig opens her eyes, leaps off onto her perch and insists that she have another shower before the whole face washing routine, as per usual. You can spoil a Crow.

Kudos to my wife, again. She is not only bringing Fig into the house on her own now, she and I are able to pass Fig back and forth for exercise. At first suggestion of this activity, Fig ran up my arm to my shoulder, as usual, and my wife and I were like Awwww, man, she won't do it still. We had thought that since Fig had become cool with playing with her outside, and letting her bring her in, that Fig might agree to dual handling inside, but as usual Fig was timid, and said it frightened her. Then, I think she must have accurately perceived our disappointment because no sooner had both of us loudly Awwwed, than Fig turned around and leapt over to Nori's arm. Then we simply proceeded to pass her back and forth a number of times for a while, which she really enjoyed. More ground broken. Hooray!

Not sure if I have written about this before or not. Fig knows that if she asks me for water, I will come right away, but if she asks me for food, I am likely to say, hang on a second. I mean, water is more important right? More urgent anyway. Well, Fig has figured this out very smartly. What she does is, she calls out that she wants water. So I come immediately with a cup of fresh water, then when I get there in front of her with the water, she leans towards me and screams, almost sarcastically, FOOD! Clever, cunning treachery.

I have written, just in the previous post about jumping into bushes, and breaking her beak, so no need to write about that again.

The other night we had a policeman at our door unexpectedly. He had to come in to talk to us about some mundane thing in the parking lot of no significance. Anyway, Fig was in the house as usual, but I had no idea what a policeman might make of a Crow in our house. I had read stories of policemen wandering around people's houses rather nosily in Japan on the Internet, so I sort of panicked and thought the best thing to do would be to put Fig to bed early for the night. Though in hindsight it would have been best to simply give her a chunk of meat, dim the lights, and shut the bathroom door. She wasn't going to be cawing at 8 o'clock in the evening. But, I had no idea how long the policeman was planning to stay. So, I panicked, and I took Fig outside, and asked her very politely to go to sleep in her night box, which she obliged me to do rather begrudgingly, with a confused look of disappointment which rather broke my heart. And, just to be safe, I did something that I have never done; I locked her in, because I couldn't very well have a bug-eyed policeman, billy club drawn, going full hero mode, asking me what it was that would be flapping around out on my balcony doing aerobics. Now, she really did not like that, but she had no other choice, and soon was off to sleep anyway, though miffed no doubt at my slight. Usually, I will dim her lights for an hour, then close her door for another hour before putting her out to bed. This evening I simply dimmed her lights for ten minutes, then took her out, and she was unfortunately, hardly sleepy at all. It was exactly as if I had tossed my son into bed, turned off the lights, and shut the door...not very fatherly. The next morning, she was not mad though. Instead, she thought she had been punished, so she was very quiet all morning, and did not say a word until I brought her in for our shower, at which time she was very lovey, and chatty as usual. She did not yell at me over the matter as I expected she would. In the afternoon, however, I had to put Fig out again because we were going out shopping, and Fig then assumed that she was going to be asked to go to bed early like the previous night. Well, she suddenly remembered all that had happened the previous evening, and wasn't going to fall for that dirty trickery, and shoddy, disrespectful treatment again, so she very promptly decided to fly all over the house in protest, rather than be put to bed again in that manner. She was very glad, when I did finally collect her and get her to agree to go outside, to discover that I had given her new toys, and a bowl of special dinner to make up for my rather ungracious bedtime manner the previous night, which while it was all for her own good and safety, was the wrong thing to do. Karma.

Last item. I now take Fig to a number of parks, and other places to exercise her, and enrich her life experience. At parks, she insists on running around and playing on absolutely everything, like an excited child. But that's not what I want to write about. What is noteworthy lately is that I have recently taken to holding Fig, instead of letting her perch on my arm. She is simply too playful and naughty. I plain cannot trust her 100% perched on my arm. She will get up to some rascally bounding, and leaping at some point in route for sure, if only to end up hamstrung by her tethers just for the fun of it, and eventually she'll collide with something, or someone. She is simply the world's rascaliest, naughtiest two year old, a raccoon with wings, and I cannot have her come to harm being silly. So, I have taken to carrying her in transit. I have been doing this for quite some time, and I always have done it at least some of the time, especially when she was either too excited, too tired, or too cold, so she is quite used to being carried one way or the other. But what is interesting lately, is that I now have realized that she actually prefers being carried to being perched on an arm. She simply feels safer on her back, craddled like a baby, or resting on her side or sternum along the length of my forearm, legs dangling, or clutching the tethers, wings relaxed, face buried, or playing with the tether cords carefree. She totally and utterly relaxes, submits, complies, however it may best be described. Fig will simply let me carry her along, on foot, on bike, in one hand, without the least struggle or complaint, like a magician's dove, and it feels so natural, and easy, but most importantly....safe. And this, thank goodness, seems to be something Fig and I see eye to eye on.

That's about it.  

Note on Perches

 

Because Fig is injured, she can only fly a few meters. Over the last couple of years, she has become a much stronger flier, but she tires easily if she's given too much space between her perches. It is hard to imagine that she started out with 50cm between her perches two years ago, and now she has about two meters. She will actually fly about 6 meters repeatedly given the chance, but it is simply too stressful for all day exercise, so she usually exercises on perches no more than two meters apart in her enclosure, and gets much longer flight exercise out on walks, and trips to the park. If she is given a wider exercise gap all day, her bad wing droops low, because I think she over exercises it to the point that it becomes painful; this never happens under two meters because much of her "flying" is done as leaping, and gliding, and only very little flapping. 

Fig loves exercise. She will sometimes spend as many as six solid hours leaping, flying, gliding, bounding off walls, doing flips, turns, and rebounds like an 80's aerobics instructor. She has an incredibly active imagination, and playful nature, and she makes up endless activities for herself in quite a confined living space outside. She could easily escape her living space as it is only partially covered, and she has in fact "escaped" or gone on excursions two dozen times, but she has ceased to do so these days, having finally decided that her private balcony space is the safest place to be since the wild Crows attacked her a year ago.

Because she spends so much time leaping, flying, jumping, and landing her feet get quite a bit more use than a wild Crow's feet may get. Protecting her feet from wear, sores, swelling and injury is a special concern, but she has never had serious sores, or injury to her feet because luckily I have experience with the matter, and have always taken preventive measures. Here you can see one of Fig's main perches; it is rolled with four rolls/layers of fleece, attached with double stick tape, and a half dozen zip ties. She could easily rip the fabric to shreds in a matter of hours, but she doesn't because, much like you or me, she knows luxury when she sees it, and she appreciates it. This is her sofa. She loves this soft, plush, silent, bouncy perch covering. The end of the roll creates several little convenient pocket pouches beneath the perch where Fig stores dried dog, or cat food, or other not so favorite foods she caches away for later when the real food runs out. If those pockets were not there, she would simply tear holes in the fabric and create some.

Her other perches are different sizes, textures, and roughnesses to give her feet a proper workout, and her nails some natural wear, but this perch is Fig's favorite place to crash land hard from high leaps and bounds repeatedly, and store food, so it's a bit pimped out for a soft, silent landing (I do have neighbors to think about). I've only just put it back in, so none of her toys are attached and it looks sparkling new, but she loves this perch so much that it never gets even slightly dirty, or worn, and I may not need to wash it for several weeks which utterly amazes me. If she did not love it, she would tear it all off in a couple of hours, so discovering this design took many experiments to fine tune. Fig is fond of wiping food off her beak by swiping her beak off on her perches, so I cannot cut the zip ties, as they then have sharp edges which scratch the heck out of her beak. The scratches soon polish out with more rubbing, but they look terrible, so I don't cut the ties off. They make good stress toys to peck, or push, though they do not look so attractive. She likes this perch so much, that she does not clean her beak here even. She will eat on this perch, but she'll hop over to another perch to wipe off her beak, and if any food gets on this plush fleece she very carefully removes it. Is it surprising to you that a bird could appreciate luxury to such a degree? It certainly surprised me.

A Bird in the Bush is Worth Two in the Hand!

If you spend a bit of time watching wild Jungle Crows play in a forest environment, you will quickly observe their preference for evergreen trees, not of the Christmas tree, pine tree variety, but of the deciduous looking sort of evergreen tree with small, oval, or tear drop shaped leaves on great wavy, arched and twisting branches of impressive reach. You are likely to witness young, rambunctious Crows crashing into the soft, dense canopy of these trees, feet first, wings fanned out, as if they were Eagles crashing into the sea to catch fish, just for fun, or while chasing playmates, or escaping pursuers. Perhaps they do this to catch lizards like the tree gecko, but they also do this just for fun, something which I find rather amazing considering how vulnerable they look, legs dangling, or tightly grasping soft new growth branches, or bunches of leaves, wings totally spread out; it is not exactly easy or quick for them to leap back out again, and take flight; a hawk would find them an easy target. Maybe they think if they hold onto the tree a hawk could never carry them off.

This is why, it is a very good idea, if you happen to need to exercise, entertain, or train a tethered Crow, to find evergreen bushes for them to play upon. And if the bushese happen to have a fence built within them, all the better as Crows seem to love getting from post to post by wading through the soft leaves, and fantasizing that they are on some sort of epic adventure, struggling through quicksand, or lava much like children.

Here is a not so interesting photo of such a bush, with a fence. I will try to post some pictures of Fig more playfully immersed in the foliage with the utter delight of evasion, and naughtiness written all over her face. 

The bushes are somewhat of a hazard as feral cats may lurk within, and the branches can snag on the tethers, so be attentive, and careful. Fig once broke off the very tip of her beak diving out, and finding her tether snagged. It was only an eighth of an inch of her beak, and it evened out the top with the bottom, eliminating her usual slight overbite, giving her the appearance of having pursed "lips" which was rather cute for a few days, but still scared the bejeezus out of me. She does not need more injuries.