Recently, Fig has matured a bit. Two years ago, she hung on my every word. I could literally tell her a string of instructions, up to five or six, and she would prance through them instantly without a mistake or an interruption in her attention. Apparently, that was an infantile stage because she soon started getting naughtier and naughtier, to the point that I no longer let her perch on my arm when we go for walks now. She'll just take every chance to play. She enjoys dangling from her tethers. She enjoys flying up ahead. She enjoys going in the opposite direction when I instruct her to go this way (well, I've figured out the trick to fixing that one.). She's a kid. What do you expect?
It's no big deal because actually it is safer, more intimate, and more enjoyable for Fig if I carry her. Yep, like a little kid. She likes being cradled upside down, or held with her feet back, so she can nestle her head and go to sleep on my forearm. She's a total cuddle bunny. And I don't have to worry about her suddenly diving off my arm into traffic, or up a tree. I hardly have to hold her at all. I only use one hand. Petting her, and tugging her tail, or giving her a foot massage with the other. She obediently nests in my hand, feet back, feeling secure, and never tries to jump away, or up a tree. She's not even startled by Harley's as long as I'm holding her. Something about being held works for her. She won't even go to the bathroom. If she needs to go, she'll let me know with some fidgeting, but she'll hold out for a good hour walk even, though I give her much more frequent bathroom breaks than that. If she's perched on my arm, however, she'll go whenever she feels like it, and my shoulder, even worse! So carrying a Crow, is the way to go.
Training time with Fig is actually just exercise, and play time. She and I rehearse our communication which is quite intense. She watches my eyes. I watch hers. She stands facing me. I face her. She's on the lookout in this direction, me in the other. I request her to leap up on my arm, wait there, then give her the go ahead to fly off, and direct her where to go with my eyes. It's all very tight. It feels a bit like a ballet. But the fact is, Fig is so playful, that one could hardly call her obedient, and that's fine. I'm not so interested in obedience. I just want her to get exercise, play, sun, fun, and connection. It's if we lose connection that is the real sticking point. It's the one thing I really work hard to get. And at home, in the bathroom, or out on her balcony, she's a machine. She follows every direction, every request, like we're a real team. But the minute we step outside, a whole lot of that just flies right out the window for her. I understand that. She is outside, in her element, surrounded by other birds. Who needs me? It's not like I completely disappear, she's just way seriously distracted by fear, excitement, and curiosity. Fig wants to play everywhere, on everything, and even with everyone!
Well, today's exciting news is that recently, more and more, Fig has been re-giving me that connection we used to have outside, but have only really had inside for so long. She is starting to follow indoor commands, outdoors again.. She'll get up on my shoulder, and cross to the other, switch hands to perch on, leap to a wall via a jump to my knee, leg, or arm when requested to do so. Go across my back. Follow a string of commands again. She is less distracted, more connected, and seems to be losing her once clear distinction between inside, and outside time together. It's a very welcome development.
I even barely hold her tether anymore. She just flies around dragging it behind her. She obeys the perimeters of the parks. She stops when and where I tell her. She listens intently when I tell her not to go somewhere because it's dangerous, and then doesn't go there. She won't even leap in a tree if I grumble about it. The couple of times she has, she has stayed low, and come back down at my insistence. She looks to me for approval, and generally is respectful of my wishes. It's quite amazing.
Fig is growing up. She is still saying Ah to me on outings, and I find, as if by magic, that I get it, I understand it, more and more. It's like the human Aw kids use when they're out shopping with Mom. Aw Mom! But depending on your pitch, intonation, volume, enthusiasm, and a hundred other factors I struggle to name, it expresses your feelings, and communicates in a brief instant. I'm annoyed. You're kidding. Great! I'm thrilled! Here I am. Where are you? It can all be packed into one simple sound. I find that I can now quickly if not instantly tell if Fig is saying I see a friend, I see a threat, I see an unfamiliar object, I see a dog, I see a cat, I see my parents, I'm bored, I'm going to go over there, Here I am, are you watching me, Dad? and a whole slew of other things, and she always sees things first. Humans are nearly blind; it's a wonder we have survived this long.
That's all for now.
It's no big deal because actually it is safer, more intimate, and more enjoyable for Fig if I carry her. Yep, like a little kid. She likes being cradled upside down, or held with her feet back, so she can nestle her head and go to sleep on my forearm. She's a total cuddle bunny. And I don't have to worry about her suddenly diving off my arm into traffic, or up a tree. I hardly have to hold her at all. I only use one hand. Petting her, and tugging her tail, or giving her a foot massage with the other. She obediently nests in my hand, feet back, feeling secure, and never tries to jump away, or up a tree. She's not even startled by Harley's as long as I'm holding her. Something about being held works for her. She won't even go to the bathroom. If she needs to go, she'll let me know with some fidgeting, but she'll hold out for a good hour walk even, though I give her much more frequent bathroom breaks than that. If she's perched on my arm, however, she'll go whenever she feels like it, and my shoulder, even worse! So carrying a Crow, is the way to go.
Training time with Fig is actually just exercise, and play time. She and I rehearse our communication which is quite intense. She watches my eyes. I watch hers. She stands facing me. I face her. She's on the lookout in this direction, me in the other. I request her to leap up on my arm, wait there, then give her the go ahead to fly off, and direct her where to go with my eyes. It's all very tight. It feels a bit like a ballet. But the fact is, Fig is so playful, that one could hardly call her obedient, and that's fine. I'm not so interested in obedience. I just want her to get exercise, play, sun, fun, and connection. It's if we lose connection that is the real sticking point. It's the one thing I really work hard to get. And at home, in the bathroom, or out on her balcony, she's a machine. She follows every direction, every request, like we're a real team. But the minute we step outside, a whole lot of that just flies right out the window for her. I understand that. She is outside, in her element, surrounded by other birds. Who needs me? It's not like I completely disappear, she's just way seriously distracted by fear, excitement, and curiosity. Fig wants to play everywhere, on everything, and even with everyone!
Well, today's exciting news is that recently, more and more, Fig has been re-giving me that connection we used to have outside, but have only really had inside for so long. She is starting to follow indoor commands, outdoors again.. She'll get up on my shoulder, and cross to the other, switch hands to perch on, leap to a wall via a jump to my knee, leg, or arm when requested to do so. Go across my back. Follow a string of commands again. She is less distracted, more connected, and seems to be losing her once clear distinction between inside, and outside time together. It's a very welcome development.
I even barely hold her tether anymore. She just flies around dragging it behind her. She obeys the perimeters of the parks. She stops when and where I tell her. She listens intently when I tell her not to go somewhere because it's dangerous, and then doesn't go there. She won't even leap in a tree if I grumble about it. The couple of times she has, she has stayed low, and come back down at my insistence. She looks to me for approval, and generally is respectful of my wishes. It's quite amazing.
Fig is growing up. She is still saying Ah to me on outings, and I find, as if by magic, that I get it, I understand it, more and more. It's like the human Aw kids use when they're out shopping with Mom. Aw Mom! But depending on your pitch, intonation, volume, enthusiasm, and a hundred other factors I struggle to name, it expresses your feelings, and communicates in a brief instant. I'm annoyed. You're kidding. Great! I'm thrilled! Here I am. Where are you? It can all be packed into one simple sound. I find that I can now quickly if not instantly tell if Fig is saying I see a friend, I see a threat, I see an unfamiliar object, I see a dog, I see a cat, I see my parents, I'm bored, I'm going to go over there, Here I am, are you watching me, Dad? and a whole slew of other things, and she always sees things first. Humans are nearly blind; it's a wonder we have survived this long.
That's all for now.
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