Being Migratory

The morning after our arrival to Qatar, Parrolito was all chirps and jumps. I was a mess of sleep hangover proportions for a week and a half. Migratory species for the win. Now, migrating a 24 gr. bird in a steel bird of, say, 250,000,000 gr. is the essence of cool.

Not to scale

The international flight went very well. I was a nervous wreck, thinking of the poor bird in the cargo hold for 12 hours, but I suspect that he was either sleeping, or torturing some poor puppy with his best soprano rendition of "do you want your broccoli?", in a loop, forever.

Parrot is my co-pilot

Although United Airlines informs on their website that they can carry "household birds" in cabin for domestic flights, we figured out early on that this meant budgies and lovebirds. Rather than trying to make sense of this, the only way to go about it was to call our bird a lovebird at check-in and during flight from San Francisco to New York. Budgies have such a long tail that I was anxious about meeting the random airline employee who knew his way around "household birds". Parrolito made an adequate lovebird, although given the insane territorial nature of these things, I feel that parrotlets might also be called hatebirds. 

Get him to the Gulf

It is taking a little bit longer to get Parrolito to the Greek Gulf. Just last month, the country decided to change the requirements for all pet imports, where now they require companies to ¨sponsor¨ pets. It must not have been fun for my other half to have to request this, but here we are, in mid-rollercoaster and there is no way out. More tequila please.

Here is how the waiting game went:

Day 1: Parrot passport ready. Permission to buzz the tower.
Day 2: Continental merged with United. This is not good because, as everyone knows, United sucks.
Day 3: Still here. US Fish and Wildlife SF Designated Port started the long weekend way early and I could't book the exit clearance on a Friday at 2pm. You guys are killing me.
Day 4: Mwah ha hahahaha! We are all mad here.
Day 5: Parrot had five baths by 11am, in three different water bowls (one of which is akin to me bathing in a pyrex dish). He is going to love the desert.
Day 6: Vet, USDA and US Fish and Wildlife cleared Parrolito for export in one day. I own bureaucracy.
Day 7: We are off.

1/11th Bird Life

Today we shipped 400 kg. of life to our new overseas address, in preparation for the imminent move. One of the eleven boxes was filled entirely of birdness, to sum up: small "sunning" bird cage, half a manzanita tree, special organic pellets, toys, chewables, a ton of cuttlebone, and a parrot training DVD that I will never use. What this really means is that our life consists of 1/11th of bird. This is a gross under-estimation.

Soaking water, then sun

Doing my bird-laundry (he is not very happy right now)

Bird Radio

Are you tired of the sounds of the city? Do you find yourself reminiscing about that time you were one with nature, whether it ever happened or not? Then look no further than the Ambient section of your iTunes radio, streaming "Birdsong Radio". With the soothing slogan "I found a new way to spend more time with me"(or something like that) you are on your way to bird paradise, or a potential migraine. Recommended by our parrot friends:

"Hi, I am Parrolito, a licensed Forpus (LEED AP). When I want to meditate, preen, bathe or eat in absolute bird insanity solitude, I choose Birdsong Radio. I highly recommend it for that feeling of myselfness, or rather, me and 13.786 of my closest chirping friends. Enjoy."

To my bird - an apology

Watching you try to fly and instead land on the carpet is the most soul-crushing thing I have ever seen. I had to clip your wings, since I am leaving the country for a bit,and you are staying in a luxury spa. You also have to catch an international flight in a few months. So, for your own safety, I decided that you cannot be fully flighted. I could not ask you what you wanted, or make you understand that you should not fly away. There are falcons out there, dude.

Update: I decided there is a special hell for people who clip the wings of birds, which is just a step up from unadjusted children who pull the wings off bugs. And people who talk in the theater (Firefly rocks, amirite?)