Pregnancy results are in!

Okay, did I make you look? I'm just kidding. This post is actually about our birds. It has nothing to do with pregnancy at all. JB is yelling over my shoulder, "That is SO wrong!" But I figure, hey, if you can't joke around about IVF, what can you do? So, let me get started on my real blog.

Our birds have returned to sharing a cage.

Why the bit o' separation? Well, Monet (the boy bird) preened Twain (the girl bird) to such a degree, that Twain (the girl bird) had turned into a vulture. She barely had a single feather left on her pretty little vulture head. She looked, well, pitiful.

Okay, so if you are confused as to why our girl bird is named Twain, what would appear to be a boy's name, please flash back a minute to my post on THE GENDER IDENTITY CRISIS. This is the day that I accidentally found out that Twain was a girl and Monet was a boy. It was a very disturbing moment that I prefer not to rehash, so if you want rehashment, click on the link above.

Anyways, I have also realized that we don't have any pics of our two new birds together. So, in order to show our birds, I have to show a picture of our deceased bird Chaucer (also a girl). Again, for an explanation as to why Chaucer (which is a boy's name) was given to our girl bird -- check out: THE GENDER IDENTITY CRISIS. It will explain Ev-ry-thing.

This is Chaucer (God rest her soul) on the left and our second bird, Twain on the right.

This is Monet. When Chaucer died, I swore off a second bird altogether. I caved THE DAY AFTER when we saw Monet in the store. She was so pretty. She is also the LOUDEST STINKIN' BIRD I HAVE EVER MET!

So, anyways, the birds have returned to the same cage and the preening, for now, has desisted. At least the preening to the extent that poor Twain didn't have a hair left on her pretty little head. Poor little vulture.

Also, since our two lovebirds are our only pets (except some fish which I don't really bond with), I thought it would be fun to share some lovebird facts. I always find it humorous that people (especially people without children) tend to put so much stock in their pets. However, these are just two tiny little birds and here is a whole post on them. So I guess, I join the club! Who knows what this blog would like if I had a cat or (gasp!) a dog!

• The lovebird is a small stocky parrot between 5.1-6.7 inches (They may be small but their bite is fierce. Chaucer bit something crazy. Twain bites very little, and Monet, who is my favorite, doesn't bite at all! We also believe Monet is the only boy bird of the bunch. No surprise that the boy birds are not quite as "nippy".)
• Their average life span is between 10-12 years with some living even longer. (Chaucer lived about 5. We think her death was due to a gender identity issue -- see linked blog above.)
• The oldest recorded lovebird lived 17 years. (Wipe away the tear. Poor Chaucer didn't make it nearly that long. I found her dead! It was horrible! I hated that stupid bird and here I was crying and yelling on the phone for JB to hurry home!)
• The different species of lovebird are identifiable by their colors and markings. They vary greatly in their coloring, and each species can be viewed for their unique combinations. (Chaucer was a peach-faced, Twain is pied peach-faced lovebird, and Monet is Lutino.)
• Younger birds are duller in color and they have black in their beaks. The young birds coloring intensifies as they reach maturity. (This, is true. They are prettier as they age.)
• All lovebirds are native to Africa except the Grey-headed lovebird which comes from the island of Madagascar. (A comment to make me sound intelligent.)
• These birds are very active, flying and climbing about, gnawing on wood or chew toys, and grooming themselves many times all day. They love toys of all kinds such as seed bells, swings, ladders, mirrors, shiny objects, and wooden gnaws. A lovebird outside of it's cage will not stay on it's playpen, they like to explore. Be sure this room is safe with no open doors or windows, no toxic plants, no open water containers, and no hot stove. (This is very true. One time they found a stack of my photos and made them look like they had been scrabooked with that fancy design all the way around each photo. Girl birds do this especially. They then stick the frayed paper in their tail feathers to make a nest.)
• Lovebirds awaken with the dawn, get a drink, eat, and then immediately begin to chirp. They will generally quiet down by mid-morning and resume their chirping in the late afternoon. (This is why we keep them covered until we wake up, and put them to bed when they think they "need a nap".)
• Lovebird genus is Agapornis. Agapein means "to love" in Greek ornis means "bird" in Latin. (I just threw this in, again, to sound smart. Did it work?)
• Lovebirds are very social birds. Generally is thought that it is essential for their good health and happiness that they be kept in pairs, not singly. If you have a single lovebird, you must provide the necessary social interaction that it is missing from another bird. These birds develop fierce loyalties to their keeper or their mate.

I want to take a moment, briefly, to comment on this last bullet. This is VERY true. Our first lovebird, Chaucer, was a single lovebird until we came to Mayo. John worked from home, and Chaucer would spend everyday with John flying back and forth from her cage to JB's shoulder. She loved him!

Chaucer was also unusual as most lovebirds do not talk. However, she picked up two key phrases. The first was "step up". This is what JB used to say to her to demonstrate dominance. He would tell her to "step up" onto his finger, she would, and would therefore recognize that she ranked below JB on the "pecking order".

Now some people (including JB) found it funny that ANY time I walked into the room where Chaucer was she would start saying "step up, step up, step up" to ME! (She also said this to any other random and unfamiliar item like pencils or hair bands). She totally thought she outranked me on the pecking order. Sad fact was? She problably did. I was scared to death of that little bird. She always bit the fire out of me. (That's a Kentucky saying -- "fire".) I like to think it was because she saw me as a threat. (Maybe?)

Chaucer's other cute phrase was "gimme kiss". After this she would make a loud puckering noise. It was quite cute despite my fierce disdain for that little bird. She would also give JB kisses on the cheek. She would say "Gimme kiss", tap his cheek and then make the puckering noise. She never gave these kisses to me, however.

One day, JB and I were in the same room as Chaucer joking around, and he said, "Kiss my butt". Chaucer immediately made the loud puckering noise. We laughed pretty hard at that one.

Anyways, now that I have thoroughly worn you out with bird stories, I'll let you go. Actually, all I intended to do was to tell you that Twain was getting over being a vulture. Guess I got long-winded. Imagine that.