 | | 23.09.2006 10:44:59 | | How Miracle and others got theirs Names by Onalynne Naas | Champs is my beloved Chunky's first born (or hatched). He was a pearl, like his Mom, but when he grew and moulted his new feathers grew out in typical colour. As his mom was Chunky, he then became my Champion, the best from the best, but mostly gets called Champs or Champie. I am his chief head preener and he is an angel. Everyone can pet and play with him. I gets plenty of kisses & nibbles and a sharp reprimand - an angry EEEP, when I stop petting him. he shares me reluctantly with the others but makes sure they know who's boss.
Smokey was also bred and raised by myself. He was named by my eldest Grandson, Leon. I have been offered an excellent price for him but he is not, and never will be, for sale. Nor will any others ever be sold. His wife is Miracle, a tiny little hen, also bred and raised by myself.
Miracle was still being hand-reared when she had a terrible accident. She was in a cage that had a drop-down play side. The underside of her wing, right near her body somehow caught on the cage play-side hook and ripped a vein. In seconds she, the cage and myself were covered in blood. I franticly tried to stop the bleeding. I tried to contact our vet but he was out. of town. The only way I could control the bleeding was to hold her wing securely against her body. I even had to sleep like that. I cut a sock up & slipped it on her like a sheath but it wasn't firm enough. Her skin was whiter than her feathers by then - I never imagined a baby bird could produce so much blood. When I got her to Dr Frank he couldn't believe she was still alive (neither could I). Anyway, he fixed her up but we both wondered if she could survive the blood loss. For the next few weeks I hardly left her side. She survived and so became our Miracle. The accident seemed to stunt her growth and she is a good deal smaller than the others. She knows she's the only lady around (I'm not counted as one - I'm the pet) aand bosses the boys around. When she calls they all fuss over her.
Mischief I bought in Port Elizabeth at a pet shop (a fatal place for me to visit as I want to bring ALL the cockatiels home with me). He was just weaned and liked to explore. He got his foot tangled in a long thread on top of a curtain. Although I carefully untangled his foot, it started swelling and then to my horror he started chewing on his toes. We tried everything to stop him, even went as far as making a cardbord collar to try and keep that foot safe but nothing worked. My son Shane and myself took turns in staying with him but he wouldn't leave that foot alone until the toes were all but gone. He has to be watched when out as he wants to investigate everything and usually lands in trouble of some sort therefore the name Mischief. He loves following Miracle around and doing little favours for her and they cuddle on the sly when Smokey's looking the other way. Naughty, naughty.
Old Chappy was given to me by Donald, who has Finny Flipper Pet Shop. He was bought with a batch of cockatiels but was to old to sell & Donald asked if I would "retire" him so, The Old Chap came home with the seed and quickly settled in. He has a lovely disposition and it gives me a thrill as he trusts me more every day. He was an avairy bird but today when I did his wings he didn't even try to bite me.
Jackie, the Congo African Grey, I bought as a babe from Donald 7 years ago. He has great conversations with us. He doesn't just repeat meaningless things. He TALKS to us & he knows what he is aying. He counts quite well also and sings Happy Birthday. I went out last night & when I came home he sang "Happy Bithday to me....etc" As this was the first time he omitted all names and put the word "me" where the name should go I was a bit puzzeled - until I opened the fridge for milk and saw a milktart sitting there (my eldest son, Michael had brought it while I was out) - so the association for Jackie was: cake = birthday; no singing or candles for other people = my (Jackie) cake = my (Jackie) birthday, therefore "Happy Birthday to me" and he wanted me to give him some. He had to settle for Marie Biscuits (Bakers only). he even tells us what the weathers like. At night Jackie tells the cockatiels "Shhh! Be quiet, go to sleep, Daddy (or sometimes Grandpa) is sleeping."
People must never say "repeat like a parrot" They, and even the cockatiels, have logical, thinking brains, and I can prove it. Birds do not act on instinct alone.
I can't imagine life without them. I don't want a life without my dearest friends and companions.
In anouther email Onalynne Adds :- | | poster: Godfrey J. Hamshire | | |   |
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