ISSN 1492-8132
Issue 76, © 2003
No reprints without permission

Good news! The sale is over, but thanks to the interest shown by visitors, a special deal still remains; two of the more popular pet bird cages we reviewed will remain on sale, so you can still save up to $120.00 on a great pet bird cage.

The rest of the cages reviewed have returned to their normal pricing, but there are still some great deals available, from small and large pet cages, to breeding cages, stands, and some great flight cages!

The folks at Bird & Cage Co have made it their goal to provide birdkeepers with a great selection of quality cages for the best possible prices - and if you live in the continental US, there's an even nicer bonus - for now at least, shipping is free!

See Robirda's birdcage reviews here.

For a full selection that includes some great wrought-iron parrot cages, visit BirdandCage.com.

Summer heat brings out the fans and air conditioners, as we all seek relief from the heat. Our birds are not unlike us, in that they too need relief from summer's hottest weather. And even more than we do, they need good air circulation, too. Yet they also need to be able to step out of the breeze if they wish, or they risk becoming ill.

There's an easy solution to this apparent dilemma. Check to make sure which way the air moves through the cage, then simply toss a sheet or some other lightly-coloured but tightly-woven piece of material over a corner of the cage near a perch, so that it will stop the breeze from entering that small area of the cage.

Don't use a darker piece of cloth for this, as you want enough light to be able to come through for the bird to feel comfortable there. The idea is to create a sheltered area of the cage your bird may retreat to when he wishes.

I like to use leafy-patterned material for this purpose, as it seems to me to mimic stepping into the shelter of a leafy nook in a tree-top. Not only does this look nice, but it helps to create an ambiance in our environment that reminds myself as well as my birds of the beauties and comforts of living in the trees - even though we actually live in the busy heart of a large city!

When you need help with housing, feeding, care or behavioral questions, you can get a personal answer from Robirda. Even avian vets sometimes consult with Robirda on small-bird behaviour and other such issues.

A recent consultee said, "I must tell you that this service is worth much more than we pay. You certainly provide a valuable and informative service! Your information will make the difference... "

Robirda's customers find her answers to be detailed and reliable, caring and supportive. Robirda can help you learn to understand your birds better! Learn more here.

Please remember that we rely on you to help keep this publication and its associated websites alive. If you find help you need in this ezine or on one of our websites, please consider joining our sponsors.

If you're looking for something different, don't forget to check our home page for links to all our great products!

Welcome to Robirda's Companion Birds eZine

For breeder or pet bird owners who care.

Hello! Welcome to the 76th issue of Flock Talk! We hope you enjoy our feature story in this issue! It brings an end to our serial tale of a little bird lost. We feel the timing is appropriate, because for the first time in years, we are taking a vacation this summer. That means that the next issue will not be out until Aug 31st - just in time to celebrate the beginning of our fourth year of Flock Talk!

Until then, we hope you and your birds will be well and happy, and enjoy the summer. We look forward to seeing you all then!

Robirda
July 20, 2003

Brats in Feathers, Keeping Canaries will soon be available in print! This book combines the two Brats in Feathers ebooks into a beautiful and useful book packed with all the information and fantastic photos you'd expect. It is 7 by 8.5 inches in size, and is printed with special long-lasting colour-fast inks.

The production process we chose reproduces the picture quality better than any of the other methods tested, and gives the printed pages a durability we feel will be very useful in any birdroom.

Each volume in this limited edition is hand-numbered and personally signed by Robirda. We feel these books will become collector's editions. The first issues will be rolling off the press in a week or two now, so don't miss out on this special offer exclusively for ebook customers and Flock Talk readers!

Pre-order our book now and receive 10% off the cover price of $39.99, along with a bonus copy of one of two of our other popular ebooks; choose between our "Tips 'N Tricks" ebook, or a copy of our popular big-birds ebook, "Living With A Parrot".

To pre-order your copy of Brats in Feathers, Keeping Canaries, send us an email and let us know which complementary ebook you would like to receive. We will then send you an email that will allow you to send your book payment online or offline, as you prefer.

Feature Story

At last we have come to the final chapter of our serialized tale of a lost little bird, based on real-life incidents. When we last saw our small feathered hero, he'd decided to take his new human friend up on her invitation, and follow her to her home...

by R C McDonald
www.robirda.com
Copyright © 2003

I chewed idly on my cuttlebone and gazed out the window at the setting sun, remembering. It had been many years since that day I had followed Julie home through the park, and through all the changes in the years since, I had never regretted my decision.

At first, sharing living space with her had been a revelation; she tried to consider my feelings before making any changes, an attitude completely different from any of the humans I had known before, even old Joe, who had loved my parents and their young family so well. I chuckled under my breath, remembering how many times Julie had startled me before I had begun to get used to her odd ways and finally, to respect and expect them.

I watched thoughtfully as a cloud drifted across the sun, its lower side lighting up as if on fire, and shook my feathers, remembering. I had finally been getting accustomed to my new status in life when disaster had struck in the shape of an electrical fire, starting in a wall in the living room where my cage stood.

Luckily, the light of the flames woke me before the fumes from the burning wall suffocated me - quite - and as I called out in shock and terror, Julie started awake and dragged my cage out through the door into the night. Coughing and spitting, I watched as she ran to a neighbour's house and woke them, asking for help, then sped back to our house, running in and out with armsfuls of goods.

It was typical of her that most of the first armload she had rescued from the fire consisted of food for me, I thought now, and smiled to myself. In actual fact, one of Julie's worst habits always was that sometimes it seemed to take her almost forever before she remembered to consider her own limits.

Early in our relationship, I had decided to try to distract her when this happened and see if I could calm her with my songs and antics. Occasionally I actually was successful at helping to keep her from exhausting herself, often enough to keep me trying, at any rate.

She had stood by my cage, out in the yard at the edge of the group of birch trees, while together we watched the little house where we had been so happy burn down. All around us, events raged as if in another world. Dimly I remembered the fire trucks pulling up and spitting out hordes of firemen who worked like madmen trying in vain to save the house, while neighbours gathered around to watch with us.

It had all seemed distant, vague and dreamlike, even then. Time had added its gloss of distance, so that sometimes now I wondered if I had actually lived those scenes, or just dreamed them all. But I remembered the aftermath all too clearly - those long dreary months when I had spent most of my days waiting in the tiny bachelor apartment that we'd shared, sparsely decorated with a few belongings saved from the fire and some second hand furnishings donated by friends.

The days had seemed so long and empty, waiting for Julie to return home from work and spend a little time with me, and even though I knew she had no choice, I had a difficult time of it not being snippy with her sometimes out of sheer frustration, when she did finally come home.

Then finally, there had been the job offer, and the big move. I shuddered, remembering. What a nightmare that had been! Within a few short weeks, suddenly we had been uprooted from all our routines, and after days of packing, organizing, loading, and driving, resting a few hours whenever chance permitted, finally we had found ourselves in what was to be our new home.

We had been looking forward to the end of the move, but once again, we had been taken by surprise. We hadn't been in our new home for more than a few days before I began to notice that I was having problems breathing. I was unable to tell Julie what was wrong, but her sharp eyes noticed the change in me, and before long before she and I were visiting an avian vet.

The vet wanted to treat me with antibiotics, based on the symptoms I was displaying, but Julie insisted on getting test results before she would agree to give me any treatments. She argued that too many illnesses with very different treatments had those same symptoms, and in the end the vet had agreed.

It had turned out to be lucky that my Julie was her own stubborn self, too, as when the test results came in, they showed that I had a fungal infection. Quite likely it would have been made much worse if Julie had allowed the vet to treat me with antibiotics, as he had at first wished. But the mystery remained - where and how had I gotten the infection?

I don't remember now quite how it worked out, but in the end we discovered that the basement suite we'd rented had suffered from water damage in a previous year, and as a result, mould had begun to grow within the walls. It was spores from that mould which had caused my breathing problems, and if we had stayed much longer, they would have affected Julie too.

But by the time Julie became infected enough to show symptoms, her chances of successful treatment would have been almost zero. She would have been forced to deal with the results of that infection and its side-effects for years afterwards, maybe even the rest of her life. So in a way, I had been her saviour - or so she was fond of saying.

Then, of course, we'd had to move again. Still exhausted by my illness, I had the bad luck to begin my summer moult during the second move, and it had taken quite some time before I had begun to feel more like myself.

In the meantime, not only had Julie's job had been going well, but soon after our second move she had brought home a lovely little hen canary. She came to us through a co-worker of Julie's who had asked her for advice on what to do with a little bird who had flown into a neighbour's apartment window and collapsed from exhaustion and weakness.

Nobody knew quite what to do for her until Julie came along, and so home with Julie she came. At first I had been quite put out at being expected to tolerate having another canary around, but Julie's care of me never faltered, and Rosalind's gentle ways had slowly won me over.

That fall and winter had been glorious for all of us. Julie excelled at her job, and she began to be able to spend more time at home with us. Sometimes she would put us into our travelling cages and take us to work with her, where we would sing and dance for the entertainment of Julie and her co-workers.

Eventually we got to be quite the seasoned travellers, each of us hopping willingly into our own travelling cage when Julie held it up, riding the perch like it was a swing while peering out and around the sheet that partially covered our cages in the car, curious about the world and the new places we travelled to.

Then, in the spring, everything changed again. Rosalind began to build a nest, and all other thoughts vanished from my mind, except one - I was going to be a father! Julie seemed to understand my preoccupation, and conspired with Rosalind to make all the necessary arrangements. Then one day it happened... the eggs began to hatch!

It was lucky we felt as comfortable with Julie as we did with each other, for none of us seemed able to stop hovering over the tiny miracles inhabiting that small nest. Julie prepared special tasty and nutritious foods for us to feed the babies, and squeaked in joy (sounding almost like a canary herself) as she saw their tiny heads reaching ever more strongly for food.

I grinned to myself, remembering. Those innocent-looking little chicks had all, it seemed, inherited my outgoing ways, and they had kept all three of us on our toes while they grew up and into their wings.

Then had come the chore of finding good homes for them, and again, fortune and chance had played their parts. As the summer moult ended and led into fall and then winter, one at a time our youngsters left us to begin a new life with their new families. By the time midwinter arrived, not only had we found good homes for all of them, but we had made some very good friends too.

This had been our pattern for four years, until one day, shortly after our latest chicks had fledged, Rosalind simply climbed into her nest and laid her head down as if to sleep. But this time she did not awaken.

"Old age," the vet had told Julie. I realized then that Rosalind must have been some years older than me, but what with her winning ways and peaceful attitude, I had never known it.

I had never found out what her life was like before Julie had brought her home. When she first came into our lives, I asked, but she would not speak of it. Instead of answering, she began to shudder, and got a distant, far-away look in her eyes.

I had seen that same terrible look in the eyes of my father and mother when they told my siblings and I of the torment they had undergone before being rescued by old Joe. Recognizing the similarity, and realizing her unwillingness to think about those times, I had never asked Rosalind for anything more, and instead tried to take joy in everything we shared.

I found life dull for some time after Rosalind left us, but Julie worked extra hard to please me, and gradually I adjusted. Over the years, other birds came into our lives, but they all left us for new homes a few months or sometimes years later.

Julie was always willing to try to help out a little feathered friend in need, and turned out to be very good at finding just the right home for each of them, but none of those she termed her 'rescue birds' were canaries, and none ever became the special friend to us that Rosalind had been.

She had been my special partner, as Julie was my special human. I looked forward to a time when I hoped to see her again, perhaps while passing down that long, long tunnel I had first walked so long ago when old Joe had passed away, leaving my family and I to come a gnat's whisker from death before being rescued.

I remembered the glorious light that had shone at the end of that tunnel, so rich and beautiful and clear, although still so far away. I remembered even more clearly the so-beautiful canary who had spoken to me there, and told me to return to life.

"It is not yet your time, my friend," she had told me, in a low, musical voice. "Have faith that there is a home waiting for you, and a human waiting to love you - never stop looking until you know you have found them."

I had found them, all right, and so much more too. Yet I had to wonder what awaited us in the future. Would death part us forever, or would I have the chance to know those I had loved, again?

I liked to think that Rosalind was waiting for Julie and I to join her, and took great pride, as the long years passed, in my ability to care for and encourage Julie.

As for the rest? Only time would tell - but in the meantime, why worry? I had a life to live - and what a wonderful life it had turned out to be!

by R C McDonald
www.robirda.com
Copyright © 2003