ISSN 1492-8132
Issue 63, © 2003
No reprints without permission

They, and her other customers, have found her answers to be detailed and reliable, caring and supportive. Robirda can help you learn to understand your birds better. Learn more here.

This issue's question:

"I've had a yellow male canary for a year now, and I love him dearly. He is getting to trust me more and more, and will come close when I let him out of his cage.

"Last week I bought a red hen canary as a friend for him. I had thought about having her for company, and then see if they wanted to get friendly during breeding season. I had them separated for quite some time, and then let them fly together. They seemed to be getting along well.

"On Monday I came home from work, and my hen was dead. It looks like my male poked her eye out! I was devastated, to say the least. What happened?"

Robirda's answer:

"Hello! Male canaries are not very sociable at all, and this applies in particular to territory that they see themselves as owning - such as their cage.

"Outside of their 'owned' areas, canaries will quite willingly flock together while foraging about in neutral territory. A wild canary flock can be seen feeding together in quite dense concentrations, when in 'feed-and-forage' mode - but that doesn't mean they are being social, exactly.

"Once you understand that they regard foraging grounds as different than their own personal territory, you will begin to understand canary 'flock politics'. This is what you were seeing at first, when your two seemed to be getting along when flying together.

"Understanding that (like most songbirds) canaries are territorial, helps us learn how they expect to interact with each other and us. In actual fact, laying claim to their territory is why any songbird sings!

"In a cage, particularly smaller ones, harrassment of subordinate bird/s by a dominant canary can and too often does lead to death - probably more pet canaries have died because their owners thought they wanted company than through any other cause.

"So if you want happy, healthy, singing pets, never expect two canaries to share a cage unless they are actively breeding. Even mates will rarely share a cage peaceably year round, and so they too will need their own cages for at least part of the year, as will any youngsters.

"It can't be said too many times - pet canaries do not like company in their cages. Like every creature born on this planet, each canary has his or her own distinct personality, and occasionally you will find canaries who get along quite well - but it's rare, and you can't ever count on it."

Welcome to Robirda's Companion Birds eZine

For breeder or pet bird owners who care.

For all those who've helped us, thank you for your continued support! Our next issue is due Feb 2nd - we hope you enjoy this issue's feature story, and we will look forward to seeing you all then!

Robirda
Jan 19, 2003

Feature Story

This story continues the tale begun in issue 61, a fictional tale based on real-life occurrances.

The first chapter ended with our little feathered hero having found his way outside through an open window, where an unexpectedly strong wind had picked him up off the windowsill and blown him into the unknown. This is the story of what happened next....

by R C McDonald
http://www.robirda.com
Copyright © Jan 2003

When the wind first grabbed me from the window-ledge, I was swept up tail-first, with the wind in my face and my tail leading the way to wherever I was going.

With a little trial-and-error, I somehow managed to get turned around, but soon found that my wings were rapidly tiring. Trying to pull them in to achieve a little bit of rest, I discovered that the slightest tuck greatly affected my stability, and so I did not dare experiment further, feeling that I might well risk my life by trying.

My wings began to ache, and I struggled grimly to stay upright in the wind's grip, wondering how on earth other birds ever managed to fly in such a gale.

As I was swept along on the harsh breath of my cold, cruel master, I desperately tried to memorize landmarks, in the hope that when the wind died down, I would be able to find my way back.

I did not want to remember the sea of windows in the wall of the building, only one of which opened into Sally's apartment. A small thought kept niggling at the back of my mind. I tried to ignore it, but it refused to go away. Without something to guide me, how would I ever be able to find which was the right window, even if I did manage to find the right building?

"Think about that later!" I told myself grimly, and concentrated on holding out my aching wings.

Suddenly I realized that while I had been thinking about what I had left behind, the wind had been herding me away from land and out over open water! Below me there was nothing to see but waves, grey and choppy, topped with small dashes of white from the romping, strident touch of the wind.

Shocked, I stared down, a cold pit in my stomach. The heaving grey expanse was far closer than I liked. I had no idea how long my strength would last, but I had a sinking feeling that it might not be long enough.

My only other option was to fold my wings, and tumble downwards like a stone, landing wherever gravity and chance led me. But if I did that now, it was certain that nothing less than a watery grave would result.

Desperately, I peered ahead, trying to see if there was land in the direction the wind was taking me, but the thick, foggy air and flying spume blocked my vision. I racked my brain for ideas, and recalled Sally talking with my first human, Joe, soon after I had hatched.

They had been talking about her 'crossing the strait' of water to go shopping somewhere. She had been quite enthusiastic about her upcoming trip. If this dim memory was right, there was hope that sooner or later the wind would blow me back over land - and then I would have to risk landing, even if it meant I broke my neck, rather than chance being blown back out over the open ocean.

Grimly, I clenched my beak shut, and flew.

After what seemed like ages of peering ahead through thick, water-laden air, I finally saw the edge of a building shining dimly through the spray. Perhaps I was getting closer to land?

Yes! There it was again, and none too soon, either! My wings were so tired they felt as if they could drop off at any moment, but I forced them to keep moving, and fixed my gaze ahead of me, watching for my chance.

Gradually, through the mist and spume, I saw the outline of buildings and trees becoming clearer and clearer, until at last there was land below me. Almost dizzy with relief, I folded my wings and dropped lower - lower - wait, there was a tree! Could I manage to land on one of its branches?

I snapped my wings down and out, sore though they were, and angled them to slow me, dropping closer to the tree I had chosen. This was going to be tricky, but I was desperate - one way or another, I had to get some rest, and soon!

There! I was almost on top of the branch I had selected, and gave my wings one final beat and fell from the air, grabbing for the branch with my feet.

Too late! I missed my grip, and dropped several feet before I could turn and aim for another branch. Finally I managed to get a grip on a twig, and hung on grimly, swinging back and forth gasping for air, my wings drooping.

For several minutes it was all I could do to just breathe. I was almost giddy with relief, not having to continue trying to breast that impossible wind. Numbly, I tucked my head into my breast feathers and tried to warm up a little. I was hungrier than I had ever been, save for when Joe had died, but first I needed some rest.

It was some time before I was able to look about and assess my position. I was ravenously hungry, and more sore than I had ever thought I could be, but at least I was alive! The day was getting on towards afternoon, and it was time I found out a little more about where I was, not to mention finding something to eat.

Curiously, I gazed about. The tree I was in was one of a small group, set in the middle of a field of grass. Tall buildings were set all around, on the other side of the roads that formed each side. But I didn't have the time to look too far - I had to find food and some kind of shelter before it got dark.

Wait! What was that sound? Somebody singing? Sally used to sing while she was cleaning her apartment - could it possibly be? I stretched my stiff, aching wings, and launched myself towards hope.

It was coming from an open window in the nearest apartment building, and I began to wonder about this unknown human. Although she was singing one of Sally's songs, surely it could not be Sally herself? Still, her voice sounded friendly and familiar, and I could not resist the impulse to go and see.

I landed on an open window and looked in. Yes, there she was - and she even looked a little like Sally! Cheeping happily, I launched myself towards her, telling her how scared I had been, and how hungry I was - and suddenly she looked up and saw me.

"Eeeek! A robin, inside my house?!? Get out of here right now!" she shrieked at me, when I landed on the arm of her couch. I stared in shock - I had wondered what she would say, but I had not expected anything like this!

Couldn't she see that I could never pass as a wild bird no matter how hard I tried? It was true that I had a red breast and belly, and dark feathers almost everywhere else - but my size, shape, beak and everything else about me was all wrong! Old Joe used to say that some humans could be odd - but I had never imagined this!

She continued to shriek at me, but I hadn't moved, too preoccupied with mulling over her strange behaviour. Then she ran into another room and came back brandishing a broom. THAT I knew! I quickly jumped out of the way as she swatted at me wildly, still shrieking at me to leave. I realized that I would find no help here, and reluctantly spread my wings to fly back out the window.

Life, that had seemed so full of hope a few seconds ago, now seemed dark and dreary again, grim and deadly.

Pausing for a second, I looked around, and spotted a small group of sparrows winging their way around the corner of the building, chatting happily amongst themselves. Curious, I decided to follow them, and chortled to myself as I rounded the same corner and saw where they had been headed.

Now this was more like it! Apparently whoever lived here not only liked birds, but wanted to help feed them, too! The balcony had several different kinds of feeders scattered among the potted plants that took up most of the rest of the room. Everywhere I looked, I could see one or more feeders, most with birds busily engaged in eating the bounty they offered up.

Happily, I swooped down to join the others, cheeping a greeting - only to be met by a rising cloud of little feathered bodies, coming straight at me with open beaks and beating wings, all pecking at me and trying to swatt me out of the sky!

Confused and puzzled, I quickly dived out and away, back around the corner of the building where I landed on a window ledge to catch my breath. None of the strange birds followed me, and shortly, when my heart had stopped beating quite so madly, and with hunger driving me, I decided to use small flights from one window ledge to another, and made my way back around the corner of the building.

Looking about, I found a ledge where I could watch the balcony without exposing myself to attack. Surely the other birds would not stay until after dark? For that matter - did I have to wait? If I was careful, and sneaky, perhaps I could find an unused bird feeder and help myself to at least a mouthful or two of whatever it was they were eating before anybody noticed?

Carefully, I worked my way closer and closer, staying out of sight as much as possible. Finally I was next to a small feeder in a sheltered corner, with no other birds near, and watchfully I began to eat.

Much of the mix was seeds too big for me to crack, but some were edible, and I ate quickly, trying to get as much food into me as I could before I was seen and again chased away.

Suddenly I heard a sliding sound, like the sound made when Sally opened her window. I looked around, and realized that a glass door onto the porch had opened, and a small human had stepped out onto it.

She was the smallest human I had yet seen, and while the wild birds all swooped off in a thunder of little wings, she stood gazing at me. Suspiciously, I stared back. Would she try to chase me away as the other human had done? But she just stood there, gazing quietly at me, and, watchfully, I again began to eat.

"Poor little thing!" she said softly, "how long have you been lost, anyways? Would you like to eat something better than wild bird seed? Here, why not try this?" and she set a cage down, and slowly backed away. It looked familiar, and comfortable, and I could see that it held, not only food and water, but a lovely large spray of millet, and a handful of tender-looking greens.

I looked all around, but could see no other birds. The human had gone back inside her apartment, leaving the door open. My beak was clattering at the thought of that millet, and before I could talk myself out of it, I winged over and landed on top of the cage, looking in.

The seed looked fresh, and there was a cup of clean water, too! Hungrily, I looked for the door, and realized that it was propped open. This was an invitation that I was not inclined to refuse, and I wasted no time hopping in through the cage door and beginning to eat.

Suddenly the door snapped shut, and I realized that there had been a string tied to it. Evidently the small human had kept a hold on the other end, and once I was inside the cage, she had used it to pull the cage door shut.

It wasn't long before she was standing beside the cage murmering, "Well, aren't you the pretty little thing, though! I'm so glad you found us before you starved out there! I'm Doris - I wonder what we shall call you? Is there somebody looking for you, I wonder?"

I looked briefly up at her, but continued to eat while I had the chance, and barely noticed as she lifted the cage to carry it - and me - inside, to my new life.

*** Watch for the continuing adventures of our little feathered hero, coming soon!

by R C McDonald
http://www.robirda.com
Copyright © Jan 2003