don’t be a jerk

The nice thing about acting while you have a good day job is that any money you make from a gig is extra dough. I guess the only sucky thing about acting while you have a day job…is the fact that you have a day job. Anyhoo. I digress.

I had told myself that I would buy myself something the next time I got a check in the mail. Then I got a check in the mail.

And somewhere along the way I remembered that I had always wanted to get a parrot. I also remember wanting to name that eventual parrot “Lothar” but more on that later.

Did some research and found out that the best place to buy a parrot is from a specialized parrot store (and not at, say, a Pet Depot) so I found one called Parrots Naturally in Tarzana.

These people are crazy parrot people. They treat their parrots better then most people treat other people. All I could think was how nice it is when people truly find their calling in life.

You’re not allowed to just buy and walk out with a parrot. They make you do research, talk to them, and then start meeting the parrots. Once you find a parrot you like, you put a down payment on it, then you visit it for the next few weeks. If the parrot is a recently weaned baby, they may make you visit for up to 4 weeks.

This is what I found out in my research:

As a generalization, South and Central American Parrots tend to be very colorful, active and entertaining, but loud as fuck. Definitely not a good parrot for an apartment.

Cockatoos (Australia) are also very entertaining, but emotionally unstable and also loud as fuck.

African parrots aren’t as pretty, can be on the shy side, but are very intelligent and can be some of the best talkers. Good for apartments.

I was considering an African Grey, especially since Judy, the owner, was weaning a new batch of chicks. Grey’s can be crazy good talkers. They not only learn words, but will actually perfectly imitate the voice of its owner (or its owner’s cell phone, or the garbage truck that comes every tuesday, etc.)

However they’re very expensive and a bit shy, and they tend to bond with only one person.

Then I found this guy:

A Jardine. 10 months old. Also an African species, so not a screamer. Not quite as good a talker as Grey’s are (Jardine’s tend to sound more “parroty”), but much prettier, and much much more outgoing and entertaining.

He kept biting my thumbs, but never really clamped down hard enough to break the skin. In fact, sometimes he’d grab my thumb, look up at me for my reaction, then bite down (at which point I’d shake him until he let go.)

Every time I came back he seemed to remember me and even started biting me less. And I’m not a picky guy. Sometimes I don’t care if you don’t necessarily love me. Sometimes it’s good enough if you just don’t hate, bite, or scratch me.

Saturday morning, went to the California Science Center with Mike G, Kimmie, Rick and Angel. When we were done, Rick and I went to get the parrot, whom I had already named “Ed O’Neill” (we’re still waiting for DNA tests to see what the gender is - if it turns out to be a female, then I’ll just name it “Ms. Ed O’Neill”.) I would like to have named it “Lothar”, but it just didn’t go with the green and orange plumage.

We stuck Ed O’Neill in a carrier and started driving back to West LA. There was shitloads of traffic so we were on the road for awhile. Aside from being distressed by the fact that we were taking him away from his home, Ed O’Neill also became violently carsick and puked up an alarming amount of what appeared to be mostly carrots.

Rick took Ed O’Neill out of the carrier and let him sit on his finger for the rest of the trip. Ed O’Neill looked sick, shell-shocked, and kept making distressed growling noises.

For the rest of Saturday, he looked completely withdrawn in his new environment and didn’t want to leave his cage. On Sunday he seemed better and even let me hand feed him some fruit.

On Monday, I called in sick to work with what turned out later to be food poisoning. Had to miss an audition because of it (bollocks!)

I spent most of the day in bed, trying not to die, but I found that Ed O’Neill seemed to be eating quite a bit of his dry food. He also spent a good portion of the day exploring his cage - climbing every bit of it and even sliding down the bars upside down.

Sometimes he’d just stare at me and start doing a swaggering side-to-side dance. I have no idea what that means. There are a lot of little body-language things that he does that I’d like to figure out the meaning for.

Though I’m sure he can screech like any parrot, I’ve found that the loudest sound he makes is a very musical chirp.

Sometimes when he plays in his cage, he’ll make “talking” sounds. They sound like un-enunciated words.

When he’s distressed (for instance when I cover his cage for the night) he makes scared growling noises.

I do have the cover the cage though. Apparently parrots need 10-12 hours of sleep (fucking-a!) so that means I need to give him some sort of lights out early in the evening (if I want to be able to feed him before I go to work.)

When I take him downstairs to give him fresh food, he seems to eat only if I am also eating something. Then he’ll demand to sample whatever it is that I’m eating. That’s a good sign. Means he’s getting comfortable enough to start being bossy again.