|Fabio, The Vampire Cockatiel|
My other daughter Larin, that lives in Wyoming, knows Fabio well and has given me the advice time to time to but in the freezer to cool down that temper and even made mention that I should make a Middle Eastern gourmet meal out-of-him by making Fabio into coyote kabobs and set the plate out by the crik. She did see a cute way to fix his cage into a charming outdoor planter. I have to admit, I was tempted.
I don't know what I was thinking when he jumped-out of his door when I was feeding. He was hissing at me like a snake warning me that something was up and I should have been warned. When am I going to listen to my head and not mess with stuff when I know darn-well something bad's going to happen? I was in a hurry and that's when disaster strikes. I still picked him up with my bare hands. AAACCCKKK!!! I screamed ... and it echoed off the mountain behind our house.
Fabio's head twisted like the girl, Linda Blair, that starred in the movie, "The Exorcist" and his head was freakishly turned all the way, and clear around! His beak pierced right into my cuticle of my forefinger. Blood instantly squirted everywhere (Oh, this is PG13 and you may want to stop here) and he liked it, the blood, I mean ... like Mikey loves "Life Cereal" You can Google that if your not old enough to remember.
Then, if that wasn't enough blood he laid into my thumb and peeled it clean-back. I was hopping around screaming. NO! I couldn't get the darn bird off my thumb--he was attached ... by golly. And, he wasn't letting go. I was shaking him, dancing, and Oh-my-gosh ...I'm glad there wasn't anyone here to record it all. You know the crazy thing I've been doing for him? I've been giving him cuddle bones to sharpen that beak so he can get into the his seeds easier. I didn't know he was saving that sharpened beak for me.
|Chipper Is "On-the-Lamb!"|
Fabio, the bird from the "debol" runs on the floor and hisses. He doesn't fly because of the attack by the hawk. He's only a one-winged bird, but he runs fast and right-at-cha!
Canaries are so different. Chipper, the darker orange-colored canary. I have two. The birds pictured above ^ are the same bird just different filters on my Instagram camera. The other one "Sunshine", my other canary, his little feathers are soft butter yellow, and I need to add I can't get him out of the cage, he loves his home. Both of my canaries sing beautifully in the afternoon.♪♫•*¨*•♥•*¨*•♫
The little canary wasn't afraid or even shy, but seemed to twitch like he was nervous and confused. Chipper landed on top of my sofa back and sang a couple little short arias. Was he trying to tell me something? I walked over to the spare cage that I use in cleaning their jails by changing the birds-out. I quickly removed the large gabled top and I walked over and set the top on the Chipper. He didn't move, but looked around. I reached my hand under slowly and placed my hand over his back. My hand held him tight so that I wouldn't loose my grip, but it frightened the little bird. He started breathing harder and harder and I thought his rapid heart-beats would cause my dear canary to have a coronary. I was freaking him out! His little canary head thrashed from side to side. "Help!" "Chirp, chirp."
I hurried over to his cage and set him in his favorite spot in the feeder. Each of the canaries nest in their feeders and face each other. Sunshine wasn't going to budge and he was there for his buddy. Don't get me wrong, they have their little squables and short little yellow feathers fly, but they are true compardres in every way. Chipper's chest was now rising and falling and there was a tear running down his beak. I don't know if he was just letting it all go and the two canaries chatted for a long while, working it out. There wasn't any long singing this evening and I think I heard Chipper say to Sunshine softly, "We couldn't survive on the outside." Chipper and Sunshine have been so accustomed to their cage that both love the coziness of their little home. The fact of being incarcerated so long and having the feeling of security and safety has made them both fear freedom. I didn't realize that agrophobia is a condition that crosses all creatures if they stay in one place long enough. Our gold fish hate flopping around outside in the dirt when the water flows them over the edge of the horse trough.
I need to mention that Fabio is still pitching a fit and throwing birdseed all over. He's squawking and jumping back and forth like I'm sticking with a fork. I don't know if after all this time that he even remembers that he could fly at one time. The day the hawk layed-him-out in the farmer's field was a ferocious fight. There was evidence everywhere that it was a "fight to the death" and the take-down was all on Fabio's side. All Fabio sustained was a fractured wing. His wing was torn terribly, but he was so obstinate about the touch of a human or anything, that we couldn't perform therapy on him without having to have therapy ourselves. He wants to be free in our house and that's not going to happen on my watch. I need to note here that he has such a hot temper that he did go for blood on hawk, up the canyon. All that was found at the site was Fabio standing over an dessicated hawk corpse with his broken wing dragging in the dirt. The hawk was so destroyed that no one could identify the species.
I was the bird rescuer and was snookered by the local farmer to take home a weary pet. I wondered why the farmer was wearing steel-chained gloves, maybe that sow of his is getting a lot more feisty. I really hate that pig! He handed the cocktail, I mean Cockatiel over to me gently with a twinkle and a sigh of relief. No longer were his chickens in danger and I heard later he mentioned to the feed store owners that he's hoping the hens might start to lay again next spring. I thought came to me while I left the farm ... I felt a sense of relief from the farmer that when I left in my FJ, I was removing something equally deadly as a rattlesnake or scorpion. Little did I know I was about to take on the vicious, "Fabio, the Vampire Bird."
Fabio walks like a big ol' turkey and that's fine with him. I went over to his cage to see if he spilled all his water out on the floor and he gave me a long, hard stare. I saw deep in his eyes a dark red. Fabio wants blood revenge and now I need to watch my back. I could just leave the door open and he could run with the cats. They would be genuinely afraid of him, but he might solve our gopher problem. Or he could stalk me.
You could die from that.
|See? You could die from that!|