Andreas von Bird

Sybil Erden, Phoenix Arizona - March 17, 1996

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Andy was born in a jungle, on a small island somewhere in Indonesia, where he slept under a night time sky we in the Northern Hemisphere would not recognize as our own, and where poor illiterate men captured birds for pennies and sold them into the pet trade.

After his capture he had traveled across a timeless ocean crammed into a cage or box with other frightened, sick or dying Moluccan Cockatoos. Eventually he came into this country, found himself in quarantine, back when the stations were open, where he was poked and prodded and banded. And after a few incomprehensible months he was auctioned off and ended up at a pet store in Phoenix Arizona. After a year and a half there, a young sales girl, with little bird experience, took pity on this beautiful, frightened and unfriendly bird, saved her dollars and brought Andy home. As the young girl grew into maturity and married and began having babies, she had less and less of time for Andy. He lived on a diet consisting of seed, mostly sunflower, and water. His loud, wild calls were annoying to her new husband, so Andy was moved into an empty room, where he lived, in a wrought iron cage, without toys, with only a steel perch to sit on. Some time in the previous few years Andy had broken his leg, and it was now twisted and made his perching and walking somewhat difficult. I suspect Andy's leg broke from malnutrition and calcium deficiency, caused by neglect and ignorance of his needs, rather than outright abuse. The woman had no money for proper care and although she felt affection for Andy, eventually the young woman decided that in his best interest, she needed to find him a new home. When I met Andy, he had been in this country for six and a half years.

Andy arrived at the Oasis and I broke all the rules of careful bird management. Since he had come from a long-term two bird home, and appeared to be healthy, I did not put him into isolation before entering my house. I put him in my office, one room away from seven other birds, but with a shared air supply with the rest of house. For the first week all went well. Although he hissed and puffed whenever anyone, including myself, came into the room, he was beginning to recognize me. I had begun feeding him fresh fruit and vegetables from my hand and he was beginning to eat some pellets on his own. I could not completely do away with his seeds, but brought him a much healthier mixture which had dried veggies and some beans which he seemed to enjoy. Andy discovered wooden perches, and new toys, and began to climb and play. Yes, all was going well, that is, until the day Andy injured himself.

Andy had not had his toe nails trimmed in his life. He was climbing around on his cage about a week after he arrived, when I came into the room and frightened him. His toenail got caught on the cage and he fell, slamming his keel and underbelly into the bars. BOOM! Andy screamed in pain and fear. I scooped him up in a towel and cuddled him, checked him out (no bleeding) and put him back in the cage. The whole next day he wouldn't eat and appeared subdued. I kept a close eye on him. However that evening, 24 hours after his accident, Andy began to eat and act normally again.

The next day, on Saturday afternoon, Andy began to have diarrhea, followed soon thereafter by vomiting. I rushed him to the only animal emergency hospital which dealt with avians and exotics. Andy ended up staying at the emergency hospital that entire weekend. He was found to have a bacterial infection of his intestine (gram negative enteritis.) He was started on pipercillin, an injectable antibiotic. When he left the hospital he spent three more nights at the doctor's office in an incubator, while blood tests were taken to try to find out whether Andy had anything contagious which might effect the 70+ other birds living here. On Wednesday, almost an entire week after his accident, Andy was allowed to leave the doctor's office...but not come home. He was brought to a friend's house. My friend Tom is a veterinary technician who has no birds. I was thankful that his wife and family allowed the bird to room with them while we awaited more blood tests. After an additional week, during which time Tom continued giving Andy his injections twice a day and I went to visit Andy and feed him for an hour daily, I brought the bird back to the doctor for another round of tests. After several more days, the tests had all come back. This "almost" free bird had cost me almost $700.00 for medical care during a two week period of time!

There was nothing that showed up that was a danger to my birds at home, but there are diseases we either didn't test for or ones that have no tests. The consensus was that there was probably nothing serious wrong, since Andy had responded so well and quickly to the medications. In all probability Andy's infection was brought on by a combination of the accident, the stress of moving and long term malnutrition. The doctor suggested Andy remain in this new quarantine, however I felt that Andy needed attention and affection which I could not supply where he was. So more than two weeks after Andy had gotten ill, nervously and weighing the odds and options, knowing the risks, I brought him home. When Andy arrived after his latest ordeal, I put him in a newly refurbished cage which he seems to enjoy more than his old cage. He now was supplied with three wooden perches, some wooden hanging toys to destroy, acrylic toys to clack, rope toys to climb and chew on, and good food to eat.

Andy has now been in my care for a total of six weeks, and home again for only two. He is eating well, pooping well (an important fact,) and slowly acclimatizing to his new environment. He is close enough to listen to all the bird sounds, but is not in the same room with them regularly. I have been keeping a close, and perhaps even paranoid eye, on all of my other birds, but everyone is happy and healthy, including some of the young recently hatched birds, who would be the most likely to show signs of illness.

This week I began to bring my other Moluccan, a year old female with crippled feet named Sassy, into my office, where Andy now lives, and play with her either on the floor, or holding her on my lap. He watches and calls to her, ritualisticly hooting and whooping, dancing and stamping his foot on his perch, attempting to impress this pretty little girl. But Sassy doesn't know she is a Moluccan bird, thinking herself my fuzzy pink child, and hides her baby face in my shoulder.

Andy is becoming less frightened of me, but still is extremely agitated when strangers come into the room. He is eating grapes and the occasional veggie from my hand, although most end up on the floor of his cage. He has taught me a game called "Let's see how often mom will pick this up if I throw it around before eating it."

Yesterday evening, Andy watched me playing with Sassy again. When I came back into the room after putting her to bed, he called softly to me. I opened the cage door and he slowly lowered his head while keeping a careful eye on me. Then, for just a moment, almost as though he couldn't believe it himself, he let me rub his head and neck. It was just a moment. But it's a big step and a start.