I am going to be adopting a 12-year-old Meyer’s parrot named Woodie this Saturday. It’s a big step for me – this will be my first medium-sized bird and the third bird I’ve adopted. Luckily, Woodie liked me when we met, albeit a little too much. I kept placing him back on his playstand so he’d stop doing things to my hand. But, he won me over on how he tilted his head to look intently at me and made that cute little squeaking noise Pois’ make. Love at first sight? Woodie: yes. Me: definitely.
With a new bird, a lot of planning is involved. Sometime this week, I have to go buy a couple rope perches, a new shower perch and look at playstands. With a new larger bird, I have to buy larger toys. I have to find someone with a big enough car/van/truck to help me transport a cage.
I wonder how Woodie is going to take his life-changing move to my apartment with three other birds. He’s a single bird and he has his own routine, his own way of doing things. Now, he’s going to be in the living room for quarantine, but afterward, is he going to be OK with his new flock? With parrotlet chirps and lovebird screeches at 7 in the morning? What will he think of Walter, the cat? The fish? My roommate? Me?
I won’t know until Saturday. Woodie may be a bird that takes it all in stride and come Sunday, will be chirping away with the rest of the birds, making the whole house fill with bird noises. Wish me luck!