Bird Hormones
Warning -- long. I wish I remembered how to do that LJ cut text right. If you don't see more text below I figured it out...
About 2 years ago I bought 2 lovebirds. There are a few reasons why -- first, I always liked birds and finally managed to convince my mom that when in a cage there's no way they're going to land on her head. Also, I knew nothing about owning birds, much less lovebirds. And finally, I was dumb enough to listen to the Petco "avian specialist" (translate: employee best able to catch birds in nets and put in boxes).
I know more about birds now. Lots more. Particularly with respect to what I did wrong... The best description I've heard about lovebirds is that they're the Buffy the Vampire Slayers of the parrot world. They are small, beautiful... and violent like you wouldn't believe. Turns out having 2 lovebirds means they love each other a whole lot more than they love you. Especially when they've been parent raised instead of hand-fed, because that means they're generally afraid of your hand and of you. I've spent 2 years reaching a point where I don't get bitten reaching into the cage to take them out.
Turns out that mixing species isn't always the best idea -- I have a peachface and a Fisher's: Doris and Lena, respectively. They sing/squawk/talk so much that when the vet said I likely had 2 females I named them after Lena Horne and Doris Day. Can you guess what 2 females means? Epic battles with feathers flying, squawking that echoes through the street (seriously), and blood on the walls and cage.
SO. When the Petco "specialist" tells you that you should *really* get two so they don't get lonely? Tell them to fuck off. I have two non-lonely females who have finally had to be separated because they keep taking chunks out of beaks and bits of toes when they fight. But I can't have 2 cages in different places because Lena always figures out how to get out -- the best time was when she lived upstairs and managed to open her cage, hop down and through my room, across the hallway, down 1/2 a flight of stairs, down the middle landing, down the 2nd flight of stairs, across the 2nd hallway and into the kitchen to get back to Doris. No flying because their wings are clipped, so she walked or hopped the whole thing. Now I have the separated cage, but it is going to have to be split by a piece of plexiglass instead of wire now, because Lena managed to get enough of her beak through the wire to completely trap Doris' head and slash Doris' beak this weekend. Now that I'm smarter about birds in general and mine specifically, I know it's breeding time when she does that.
Did you know birds can lay eggs without a boy bird around? I sure didn't. And gee wasn't I surprised when the first damn egg showed up. Doris doesn't lay eggs or get worked up, she just watches curiously and bears the brunt of Lena's mood changes. Lena, it seems, lets nothing stop her marching hormones -- she builds a nest-like corner in the bottom of the cage, she protects her cage viciously, she does the "come-hither" dance aimed at Doris, all leading to an eventual brood of 4-5 eggs. But best of all? She masturbates.
That's right. Birds masturbate. Didn't know that either. And when Lena goes? She *goes*. All the way to completion, wherein she collapses against whatever she's been using (and she'll use anything) with her eyelids closed and breast heaving. Mom and I figured, hey, whatever works. No one else in the house gets any, why not the bird? The vet says Lena's technique is more similar to how male birds masturbate than females, so it seems she's worked out her own little system. Again, we're not prudes so I figure it can't hurt anything. Yeah. Until last night, when I realize that Lena has taught Doris to do it.
Mom's working on a jigsaw puzzle at the dining room table, which is the room where the birds live. I'm talking to Mom about our symphony plans Friday, and I notice that Doris is sort of strangely dancing along the remains of a spray of millet at the bottom of her cage. She's very carefully moving along it like a first-time gymnast on a balance beam. Then I hear the noise. Both Doris and Lena are making this little noise... I don't have a description to do it justice. They're sort of quietly clucking and ticking/grinding their beaks. And now I see Lena is doing the same little dance on her spray of millet, but suddenly I see her squat down so the millet's hitting the right spot and start working the tail -- masturbating birds (in my house, anyway) use an object that they can grip with their toes, squat and push the cloaca against, then work their tails like a hip hop dancer works their bootie on the dance floor. Watching it will make you a) blush, b) laugh uncontrollably. 'Specially if you try to re-enact the performance for someone.
And thus the picture becomes instantly clear to me: Doris and Lena have moved their little sprays of used millet side by side on either side of the wire separating them. They are doing the come-hither-and-see-what-I've-got mating dance of puffed-up body feathers, shaking tail feathers and partially out-stretched,trembling wings, then flashing their hineys at one another. When they finish the mating dance, they're climing onto the spray of millet to masturbate while the other one starts the dance on their side. All the while they're clicking at each other.
Unbelievable! If I end up with *two* sets of eggs now? They're getting that goddamn Lupron shot. The vet says the only way to calm Lena down is this hormone shot every 3-4 months... or weeks, depending on how her body uses it. I've resisted until now, feeling that it nature is as nature does. But 2 sets of lovebirds brooding over blanks? That's too much for even me. *shakes head*
About 2 years ago I bought 2 lovebirds. There are a few reasons why -- first, I always liked birds and finally managed to convince my mom that when in a cage there's no way they're going to land on her head. Also, I knew nothing about owning birds, much less lovebirds. And finally, I was dumb enough to listen to the Petco "avian specialist" (translate: employee best able to catch birds in nets and put in boxes).
I know more about birds now. Lots more. Particularly with respect to what I did wrong... The best description I've heard about lovebirds is that they're the Buffy the Vampire Slayers of the parrot world. They are small, beautiful... and violent like you wouldn't believe. Turns out having 2 lovebirds means they love each other a whole lot more than they love you. Especially when they've been parent raised instead of hand-fed, because that means they're generally afraid of your hand and of you. I've spent 2 years reaching a point where I don't get bitten reaching into the cage to take them out.
Turns out that mixing species isn't always the best idea -- I have a peachface and a Fisher's: Doris and Lena, respectively. They sing/squawk/talk so much that when the vet said I likely had 2 females I named them after Lena Horne and Doris Day. Can you guess what 2 females means? Epic battles with feathers flying, squawking that echoes through the street (seriously), and blood on the walls and cage.
SO. When the Petco "specialist" tells you that you should *really* get two so they don't get lonely? Tell them to fuck off. I have two non-lonely females who have finally had to be separated because they keep taking chunks out of beaks and bits of toes when they fight. But I can't have 2 cages in different places because Lena always figures out how to get out -- the best time was when she lived upstairs and managed to open her cage, hop down and through my room, across the hallway, down 1/2 a flight of stairs, down the middle landing, down the 2nd flight of stairs, across the 2nd hallway and into the kitchen to get back to Doris. No flying because their wings are clipped, so she walked or hopped the whole thing. Now I have the separated cage, but it is going to have to be split by a piece of plexiglass instead of wire now, because Lena managed to get enough of her beak through the wire to completely trap Doris' head and slash Doris' beak this weekend. Now that I'm smarter about birds in general and mine specifically, I know it's breeding time when she does that.
Did you know birds can lay eggs without a boy bird around? I sure didn't. And gee wasn't I surprised when the first damn egg showed up. Doris doesn't lay eggs or get worked up, she just watches curiously and bears the brunt of Lena's mood changes. Lena, it seems, lets nothing stop her marching hormones -- she builds a nest-like corner in the bottom of the cage, she protects her cage viciously, she does the "come-hither" dance aimed at Doris, all leading to an eventual brood of 4-5 eggs. But best of all? She masturbates.
That's right. Birds masturbate. Didn't know that either. And when Lena goes? She *goes*. All the way to completion, wherein she collapses against whatever she's been using (and she'll use anything) with her eyelids closed and breast heaving. Mom and I figured, hey, whatever works. No one else in the house gets any, why not the bird? The vet says Lena's technique is more similar to how male birds masturbate than females, so it seems she's worked out her own little system. Again, we're not prudes so I figure it can't hurt anything. Yeah. Until last night, when I realize that Lena has taught Doris to do it.
Mom's working on a jigsaw puzzle at the dining room table, which is the room where the birds live. I'm talking to Mom about our symphony plans Friday, and I notice that Doris is sort of strangely dancing along the remains of a spray of millet at the bottom of her cage. She's very carefully moving along it like a first-time gymnast on a balance beam. Then I hear the noise. Both Doris and Lena are making this little noise... I don't have a description to do it justice. They're sort of quietly clucking and ticking/grinding their beaks. And now I see Lena is doing the same little dance on her spray of millet, but suddenly I see her squat down so the millet's hitting the right spot and start working the tail -- masturbating birds (in my house, anyway) use an object that they can grip with their toes, squat and push the cloaca against, then work their tails like a hip hop dancer works their bootie on the dance floor. Watching it will make you a) blush, b) laugh uncontrollably. 'Specially if you try to re-enact the performance for someone.
And thus the picture becomes instantly clear to me: Doris and Lena have moved their little sprays of used millet side by side on either side of the wire separating them. They are doing the come-hither-and-see-what-I've-got mating dance of puffed-up body feathers, shaking tail feathers and partially out-stretched,trembling wings, then flashing their hineys at one another. When they finish the mating dance, they're climing onto the spray of millet to masturbate while the other one starts the dance on their side. All the while they're clicking at each other.
Unbelievable! If I end up with *two* sets of eggs now? They're getting that goddamn Lupron shot. The vet says the only way to calm Lena down is this hormone shot every 3-4 months... or weeks, depending on how her body uses it. I've resisted until now, feeling that it nature is as nature does. But 2 sets of lovebirds brooding over blanks? That's too much for even me. *shakes head*