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Nala is plucking again

Angel Ackerman 7 Comments

When I got home from work today, I changed my clothes and retrieved my bird. From the look of her chest, she’d be plucking.

I brought her downstairs, as is now my habit, keeping her on my shoulder as I do chores. Like laundry. Here we are in the basement. She thinks my hood is a kangaroo pouch.

I read somewhere that if your bird tries to steal your coffee, you can try to fool them with a cup of tea. Herbal tea. So I made Nala some blueberry tea and it kept her very occupied while I made dinner.

Watch Nala and her tea here: Nala and her tea

It really feels like the perfect plan. I come home, release her from her cage and reward her for her patience with a cup of tea.

And dinner. Oh, Dinner! The teenager and I had butternut squash apple bisque soup and boxed gourmet Velveeta style Mac-and-cheese. I gave Nala a couple of noodles and her own taste of soup.

After dinner she helped me do more chores. Then I sat down on my bed and started to cuddle her. She started plucking and made herself cry. Then she made herself bleed.

Is she overstimulated? Is she plucking to try and guarantee my attention? Does she know being back in my room means the night is winding down and she’ll have to go in her cage?

It makes me so sad. I know I have to be patient. I know she has been “left” and that she couldn’t prosper in a store. But it’s like the birdy version of being a cutter.

(The hydrogen peroxide wasn’t for her but for me. I fell down the stairs Monday.)

Maybe her skin is itchy. Or dry. Maybe it’s just habit. Hopefully it will improve.

So I bought her a bird sweatshirt.

Now I don’t know how on God’s green earth I’m going to get a cockatoo that bites into a sweater.

But I gotta try something.

Did that bird just scream “Mommy”?

Angel Ackerman 4 Comments

Similar to my Roomba, cockatoos share a lot of traits with toddlers. They are cute, can be needy, can learn adorable behaviors that keep you from killing them, are cuddly and can throw tantrums.

I knew all this going in.

And I also knew Nala bites and that Nala doesn’t like to step up.

Nala seems to have trust issues.

The first day I had her, I had to towel her (gently) to get her in her cage and I never covered her head. That way she could see what I was doing.

The second day, she bit me twice while I put her in her cage at night but I didn’t have to towel her.

And she’s starting to step up. Now she runs right up my shoulder. Which is still not truly stepping up. But she will reach out and take my hand and stand on it.

She has also discovered that I often leave the room after I ask her to step up and if she doesn’t step up, she doesn’t get to come.

First night I had her, I had to cover her cage to get her to settle. Last night, she went to sleep before I even turned the lights out. Now something startled her awake, but when I turned out the light she didn’t make a peep.

But the one thing I am wondering, she doesn’t scream when left alone but she will periodically call out. And I think she’s saying, “Mommy.”

Maybe I’m crazy.

But has this bird been looking for a maternal type?

See what you think, check out this YouTube video:

“Mommy?”

Welcome, Nala.

Angel Ackerman 2 Comments

I went to visit Nala at the bird store on Emmaus Avenue, Bird Mania. She’s a almost four-year-old Goffin cockatoo.

I pet her for an hour in the store. I know the clerks wanted me to take her home, they and my daughter both think this bird has taken a liking to me.

But I left without her. All of the cages they had were smaller than the ones I have for the parakeets. And I hate the idea of having a bigger bird in a smaller cage than my budgies. But I also can’t afford an aviary.

I also can’t afford a $600 bird.

A $600 bird that will live for the rest of my life.

A bird whose species is prone to temper tantrums.

So I left.

I left and went to Petco nearby and they had even smaller, flimsier cages. And all their budgie cages were tall instead of long. Budgies like you go as high as they can and then they fly horizontally. They don’t go up and down.

I thought they might have a nice budgie cage and I could put Nala in the big flight cage.

They didn’t.

And I went back to Bird Mania and pestered the workers with questions and statements.

And I came home with Nala.

I have had my budgies for a year. I fear this is too much bird for me. I could have spent that money on a new MacBook so I can work from home when it snows. (Honestly, I don’t want a computer. I just don’t. If the office has a laptop I can bring home I’d be fine with that but I don’t need a fancy computer.)

But I bought the bird.

Nala and the parakeets

Welcome 2020

Angel Ackerman 3 Comments

Oh, God. I gained five pounds (and when you’re on the small side like me, five pounds is a lot). It’s cookie and alcohol and greasy food weight. It’s not going to the gym weight. It’s stress weight.

But the actual New Year Celebration was nice. I went to a local pub/pizzeria with someone I hope I can now call a friend. Apparently a large group of them (maybe connected from high school) just know to go to this pub on New Year’s Eve. Really informal but really comfortable and welcoming.

I drank more than I usually do, and was pleasantly surprised that I can still hold my booze. For most of the night I was drinking Fireball and diet. (See above note about being small.)

Yesterday the teen and I played Uno and ate too many of those cookies. I love UNO and I’m pretty good at it.

The teen and I even went to the gym today. We did primarily weights, but we went, I hit hard.

And perhaps one day soon I’ll open up about my adventures with Tinder and now apparently Facebook has a dating arm.

Interesting. I had a conversation with someone about the prospect of dating. I know I’m going to be extremely picky and have a lot of rules. So maybe I should focus on a basic social life and strengthening my emotional fortitude.

I think it’s going to be a wild winter.

Update on the kitten

Angel Ackerman Leave a comment

So, Monday night was cold and we felt sorry for the kitten and wanted to bring him/her into the house.

The teenager had reached the point where we could briefly touch it, with a casual poke. With my daughter’s permission, I grabbed the kitten and brought him/her in the house.

He/she didn’t like that. Poor dear hissed and carried on. I wasn’t prepared for how bad he smelled. He squirmed free and hid under the Christmas tree.

The teenager played video games and went to bed.

The big cats crawled in bed with me.

In the morning, the kitten was gone. I checked all the cat hiding spaces I could think of and no cat.

And the basement door was open.

The teenager and I tore the house apart for what seemed hours. She was bereft. I felt guilty.

I made lunch.

Then we suddenly walked through the dining room and the cat was sitting on the porch looking at us.

Just like a cat. No where to be found one minute and sitting there as if he had never gone.

The teenager spent New Year’s Eve with her grandparents (and I went out for drinks with some girlfriends, something I’ve never gotten to do before).

When I got up this morning I found kitten, whom the teenager has aptly named Mistofelees, sitting inside the dollhouse. Later I found him on top of the dollhouse. And a few moments ago I found him on the windowsill.

Progress is being made.

To help with his smell, we bought some Burt’s Bees Dry Shampoo for cats. Which, of course, we tested on Big Dumb Oz.

Testing the Dry Shampoo for Cats

Just now… the kitten stalked across the porch and checked out Opie.

Kitten checks out Opie

Opie and Kitten behind couch

He eats for us

First days with wild kitten

Angel Ackerman Leave a comment

Day 1, 8 pm: Teenager releases what appears to be freshly weaned feral kitten onto our sun porch. It literally ricochets across and into the walls.

Day 2, 8 am: Oz, our big dumb cat, is terrified of the kitten who is sitting on the windowsill between the porch and the dining room.

9:30 am: kitten stares at us with mistrust and screams.

Screaming kitten with dust on his face

Around 11 am: kitten falls asleep under the ottoman.

10 pm: teenager wants to sleep on porch.

Day 3, 7 am: No teenager on porch, porch slightly in disarray.

8 am: kitten is crying and still hiding under the ottoman. Food is severely decimated so he/she is eating. I hope the teenager can gain his trust and get him/her into the house. The sunporch is technically heated but still cold.

During the day: teenager says Opie keeps trying to come investigate kitten.

5 pm: teenager dragged me to see Cats again.

7:30 pm: Oz is terrified of kitten.

Oz discovers a kitten

Roomba: the vacuuming toddler

Angel Ackerman 5 Comments

I asked for and received a roomba for Christmas.

First surprise was that he’s an older roomba and he can’t recognize 5G internet. So my internet service is too good for him. We’ve hooked him up to my neighbor’s network instead.

And now I find myself child proofing my house in order to vacuum.

I thought the roomba could help keep up with the mess from the pets and the teen.

But man, I had no idea what a maze we had in our house.

I’ve spent the last couple days observing it and trying to map its habits and paths. Because it’s a machine. There has to be a pattern.

I named him Isaac after Isaac Asimov.

Isaac goes straight until he hits something then turns 45-degrees and goes straight again. That’s the pattern.

He misses a lot of bigger things and it’s like a toddler vacuuming. He’s going back and forth but he can’t really see what he’s doing. When he’s done, he’s usually bumped a few things I need to put back and I need to pick up all the wrappers and large objects he pushed out of hiding.

I moved his home base to my bedroom. He vacuumed my room yesterday and did a pretty impressive job, and that’s where the budgies are.

I let him loose in there again today. The featured photo in this entry is the amount of hair, seed and dirt he picked up after one day.

That made me stop judging his toddler style.

Our Animal-ventures: Finding Dogs and Nala

Angel Ackerman 2 Comments

My daughter is still obsessive-compulsive about the new Cats movie. Since she lost a field mouse in her room last night, I suggested maybe she clean today.

Somehow I told her that if she got her room clean I would gladly take her to Cats again. Even though I would rather go to the dentist.

But that’s how much I want her room clean.

And so far she’s done five or six loads of laundry, found a pile of dishes and probably emptied the vacuum cleaner more times than she can count.

And she’s filled two 30 gallon trash bags.

I may be spending tomorrow at Cats.

My morning

I spent my morning picking up a little, hanging out with the budgies and watching the roomba vacuum.

Then I spent about 90 minutes working on my budget through April and paying bills.

I have been contemplating buying a computer so I can work from home this winter when it snows.

But it’s just so hard with the price of Apple products on the rise. I need to research some refurbs.

I thought maybe it would be fun to visit a bird store. So I googled that. Bird Mania on Emmaus Avenue.

Double Click Computers

Our first stop was Double Click Computers between Bethlehem and Nazareth. They were once the only Apple service people in the Lehigh Valley. Then the Apple Store moved in at the Lehigh Valley Mall.

My first computer was a PowerBook 165 in 1994. I’ve never owned anything but Macs. I’ve had the first Mac Mini prone to overheating. I had a Performa. I had iBooks, MacBooks, and MacBook Airs. Even the one shaped like a toilet seat. I had a G4. I had a tower with a built-in Zip drive.

I feel like I’ve had all the Mac products. I had the first Time Capsule, which also overheated. Though I never had an iMac. Or did I? I might have had a hand-me-down.

So it was fun to consider buying the new MacBook Pro. But the $1400 price tag scared me.

But they had dogs. 3 dogs.

They were a lot of fun and apparently they keep children from banging on the computer keyboards.

Next, the birds.

Bird Mania

Most of the birds we saw were sold or boarding.

There was a boarding macaw that was very adamant about screaming. And an African Grey that talked quietly. Another bird that said “whatever.” Several that shook. I don’t know whether it was anxiety or fear. A lot of singing and a lot of squawking.

I saw a green bird named Beetle and an African Grey named Dorian and thought “wait a minute.” I was at Three Birds Coffee House and Beetle and Dorian were on vacation.

“Excuse me,” I asked the staff, “are these birds from Easton?”

Sure enough, I had found where the birds were vacationing. Maybe next time the owners can let me watch them.

I wanted to see cockatiels.

But a cockatoo made a move on me.

Nala

Her name is Nala. Her feathers were a tad matted, and she had plucked herself in some spots. She kept reaching through the cage.

So the teen wanted to see if we could handle her. As in pet her.

The staff warned me that she always seemed pleasant but she wouldn’t “step up” and she bites.

But she agreed to let us try.

Nala came out and sat on her cage door and kept trying to bite me and wouldn’t “step up.” But she let me pet her and play with her. And scratch her head and under her wings.

But she kept biting me.

The teenager refused to touch her.

I noticed she had lovely orange cheeks and orange under her crown feathers.

But I had to say goodbye.

The staff person said they had a boy who was a bird whisperer and he couldn’t get anywhere with her. I took that as my solace and my consolation. Then the staff member added, “but she really seems to like you.”

Wow.

My family had a cockatoo, probably 30 years ago. So I know how demanding and needy they are. And expensive. So I asked, “how much are cockatoos going for these days?”

“Because she’s older and bites, she’s $600.”

Sorry, Nala. I’m a single mom.

The staff member gets a towel to corner her. They start this dance around all the cages. I feel terrible. I step close. Nala now will “step up.” And she perches on my shoulder.

Look at her.

So I pet her more and try to kneel by her cage. She gets on the door. Refuses to go in. And plucks out one of her white and orange chest feathers as if to say, “you can’t leave me.”

Heartbroken.

Dinner at Taco Bell

We ended up at Taco Bell. And the teenager made this funky but delicious concoction of two parts Diet Pepsi and one part Mango iced tea.

  • She had normal tacos but I ordered all my items from the value menu. I started with the spicy potato taco ($1) because it sounded intriguing, then the Frito and beef burrito ($1) because that just sounded weird, and a bean and cheese and rice burrito ($1) for protein.
  • Fritos in my burrito.
  • The spicy potato taco was really tasty. I bet it would be amazing with eggs.

    • The Friti burrito gave the soft taco just the right amount of crunch.

    Opie’s amputation: 9 months out

    Angel Ackerman

    This morning I was feeding the cats and I was sitting with Opie as he ate his kibble. Both of our cats will be 9 this March, they aren’t related and we got Opie when he was about 9 months old.

    The Backstory

    We rescued Oz from the animal shelter as a three-month-old. He was a birthday gift to my daughter, who really wanted a dog but my husband said no. We researched other pets, but in the end her father reminded me that I was good with cats, we already had a cat, so a kitten would mean no new stuff.

    Opie was the offspring of a feral cat rescued by friends of ours. Their cats terrorized him. Mine did not.

    Opie is not cuddly. He took years to warm up to us and not be so aloof. He and Oz bonded, and even though Oz is bigger Opie was always dominate.

    And neither one of the boys ever bothered my female cat, who was 12 years their senior and a force with which no one reckoned.

    But when she passed away, Opie stepped into the role as my protector and house gargoyle.

    The Cancer

    Then last fall, Opie started limping. I didn’t think much of it, because he escapes from time to time and tends to disappear and I thought maybe he jumped from some unknown height or got into a tussle with some other animal. It came and went for months so I thought maybe arthritis. The vet thought maybe an old wound that hadn’t healed properly.

    But then he started moping. He wouldn’t put the foot down at all. I spoke with a nurse at our veterinary practice and she recommended a different doctor there at the practice. Apparently the one I’d been seeing, or rather that Opie had seen, didn’t like cats.

    The new vet xrayed Opie. The other had refused to X-ray him without sedating him. She warned me it looked like bone cancer in his joint, what would be the elbow in a person. This cancer, she also said, is rare in cats and when they get it, they usually get it in the rear paws.

    When she called to confirm that he had the cancer, she also advised me to shop around as her practice was very expensive. I admire her honesty.

    My daughter contacted No Kill Lehigh Valley and they found a vet who could do the surgery for less than half what our vet would charge.

    This cat’s journey as an amputee also overlaps with my jump-starting my professional career after ten years in retail, and, in a way, hastened the end of my marriage as money had become more and more of an issue.

    So, Opie is a warrior. And I suppose a symbol.

    Life as a tripod

    Opie came through his surgery like a champ. He recovered curled in a ball on my electric blanket on my bed, watching the budgies and probably plotting for when he felt better.

    I could tell his pain had dissipated and he was feeling aggravated that he had to wear a cone and we were dragging him.

    But this post is about Opie as an amputee and a kitty cat survivor. This is what I have noticed:

    • He can still catch a mouse from under the stove quickly and adeptly.
    • If you scratch him in just the right spot, he forgets he only has three legs and looses his balance and falls.
    • He is still the dominant cat.
    • He has always “buried” his food when done eating. He still does this, and when he does, he moves his shoulder stump as if using both legs.

    Random video of my cats reacting to the roomba pushing a cardboard submarine across the floor

    And yes, Oz is on my lap and I am wearing footy pajamas.