Another Reflection on Cages…


Recently my neighbor and I caught a lovebird; obviously hurt but we weren’t to know how sick, too, until the next day. Thanks to all the Vet’s and Caregivers at For the Birds. http//www.forthebirdsdvm.com and to the Mended Wings non-profit organization for helping with so much of the treatment cost. Short version: After five days at the Vet – fully three of them in an oxygen tank – two weeks of antibiotics and antifungal meds, a healthier diet and loads of good wishes and encouragement from all involved, Orlando is – against all odds - seemingly healthy physically. We’ll get the last official okey-dokey next Sat.


But that’s not what’s niggling me. This Big Spirit in a little Orlando bird body was probably hand-raised as he is handled for, and takes meds, like a champ. Yet he/she (no telling gender in this species without a blood test – I will use he or she as I choose) doesn’t seem to have had much contact with human companions; handling outside of necessity upsets him greatly. As he was a foundling, there is no known history and no one seems to be looking for a lovebird hereabouts. I began to wonder how long he lived wild with no way of answering my question save observation…

Now that she’s healthier, she’s obviously bored, frustrated and wants out of her cage. Toys are not much help – doesn’t seem to know how to play with them and most often ignores them. Every gentle taming /socializing technique I know at the least irritates her and at worst frightens her terribly. She knows and responds to all the neighbor hood birdcalls for waking, happy chatter, nightly roosting and distress. And she uses the distress call often when I’m about – though that’s lessening. As her wings are clipped (for her safety for the time being) I open her cage for her to come out in living room to exercise and she refuses to leave the cage without coaxing and bait of her favorite treat… spray millet. Even so, when anything startles or she hears a distress call from outside, she immediately retreats to her cage.

He hates the cage; but that’s where he feels safest in the strange world he came to in need. It’s a sad and painful irony to be a party to.

Orlando, with his health compromised as it was, is probably not a candidate for life in the wild. Yet birds that won’t leave their cages or adapt to human company are miserably unhappy, get mean and usually go a bit crazy. Unacceptable for both of us. Another lovebird companion for him is probably the best option – don’t we all need someone to share a safe space with...

But still, now and again, leaving our safest space, (hers and mine) is imperative; Food, shelter and security isn't good enough to call living.