You Shall Not Pass!
Much to the dismay of my animals, I returned from a long trip out-of-state to spend the entire weekend in front of my computer. In my last two homes my office was hidden away, safe from the diversion of parrots and dogs and falcons. I’m not convinced if the Ghetto House has the perfect layout or the worst possible scenario, but here, I am accessible to all animals. Ty peeks in on me, the falcons are twenty feet from the office window and the dog makes the rounds. I am not lacking in distraction if the furred and feathered members of the house choose to make a ruckus. And Ty was reigning ruler of the ruckus on Sunday.
Ripping paper, throwing food, destroying toys, narrating… and somehow I managed to tune him out. Perhaps it had something to do with the head cold I’m fighting, and my diminished hearing, but mostly I was able to resist the temptation to turn and reward his labors with a glare. It wasn’t until late in the afternoon, all efforts thwarted that Ty turned to amusing himself and finally got my full attention.
When Ty was just a youngster he used to play puppet with his foot. Holding a closed foot in front of his face, he would babble to it in his burgeoning Pigeon English. Then he would shake his foot as if it were holding the other side of the conversation and babble some more. As the back and forth became more heated, the offending foot would inevitably strike him in the beak and the conversation would turn into a full-blown argument complete with shrieking and what sounded like African grey profanity. It terrified me the first few times, until I realized he was only playing.
On Sunday, Ty’s frenemy was the bell hanging from his cage. Talking and ringing, I ignored what was apparently a conversation between Ty and his imaginary counterpart until their discussion got out of control. It seemed the cheeky bell struck my poor Ty and the damaged parrot screamed as if he had been thrown across the room. I jumped from my chair to rush to his defense only to find Ty perfectly happy and blinking at me, confused by my concern. It was only a game.
I don’t know if parrots need adversaries or if Ty’s play is natural, practice based on the need to be able to defend one’s territory. I simply don’t have any science to back up a hypothesis on Ty’s lifelong imaginary frenemies. He did get me thinking though, how natural it is for humans to need challenges, situations and sometimes even people to focus their aggression and anger toward.
A life with no hurtles is a boring life indeed. In these difficult times, it is easy to wish for smooth roads. Yet, my anger toward the people who robbed me twice in my old home was a catalyst for better things, moving to a better neighborhood and a happier place. People I have admired and who have snubbed me in some way, drive me to push my shoulders back and imagine ways to show them up. Even something as simple as a bout of bad luck can get my dander up. “Yeah, well just watch me have a better day.”
These people and things don’t care if I despise them; they don’t even know I exist. So what’s the harm? Maybe we should treasure our imaginary frenemies. Sometimes they are just important and helpful as our real friends. I suspect Ty has a fuller more creative life because he loves his.
I told Iver about Ty’s puppet frenemy story last night and then while we were preparing dinner, Sophie was on her play area in the kitchen going back and forth between making her sweet cooing noise and her “I’m irritated” squawk at her rope. We laughed thinking she was playing a bit of the frenemy game herself. Today I was thinking, what if she was immitating US! Me: nag nag nag, Iver: sweet man who tolerates me, etc. OH NO! But seriously, thank you for this post. It made us think about how Sophie “fights” with her reflection in the bathroom mirror. We’ve discouraged her from doing it thinking the aggressive behavior is bad, but now we realize it’s probably a good thing. A way for her to get out aggression but not directed at us!
Thanks for the great and insightful post. I was afraid my nanday conure was losing his mind when he holds a conversation with his bell. Near the end of the interaction with said bell, he gives it a good whollop and screams bloody murder when it swings back and hits him! I, too, have hurried to the aid of what sounded like my bird being mortally wounded by this metal beast…only to find him looking at me innocently like nothing transpired at all. *Sigh* I don’t feel so alone anymore. Thanks!
Thanks, Michelle and Janine! It’s always nice to know it’s not just you who’s crazy.
There are times when it’s a good idea to pull toys that are encouraging aggression. This is especially true when it’s breeding season and your bird is being especially friendly with a particular toy. But all things in moderation are fine.