I’m sure most people, even those who purchase gifts for their pets during the holidays, probably don’t consider the animals as actually understanding Christmas.  Oh, sure, they recognize the changes, notice and even remember things like decorations and trees.  Some may even feel the animals remember that there is going to be a stocking in the lineup with dog or cat treats and toys in it.

How much, though, do the pets really understand? How much do they “get” about this strange annual tradition their family celebrates?

About three weeks ago, we began hauling holiday boxes out of the closet. The first one to come into the living room, in preparation for decking the halls, was the box with the stockings in it. Since 2010, and moving into our current home after my Dad passed away, we’ve actually have a fireplace to hang them on. We set the box on the floor, and immediately, in ran Kai. He was quite excited, and we had to keep nudging him away from the box. At one point, we humans were distracted, and I turned to find the black Saluki’s head buried in the box. He came out suddenly, tail flailing with glee, and went racing through the house….

…with his stocking. Not just “a” stocking, there were nine of them, in various sizes, in that box. It was his stocking. A merry chase ensued, after which I managed to take it away from him and hang it up.  Several times that evening, and the next day, he would wander over to the fireplace and nose that stocking, as if expecting presents to magically appear in it.

In more recent days, as a package or two arrived from a dear friend, we’ve put wrapped gifts under the tree. Kai gave them a sniff or two (and we did have to put the ones we suspect have edibles in them into a box to thwart his interest), but after the first day left them alone. For a pooch who enjoys getting into trouble, he’s been extremely well behaved when it comes to Christmas.

Until this morning.

It’s Christmas Eve. As usual, I was the first one up, and had tended the pets and done most of the morning chores. After eating his breakfast, Kai went to his usual spot on the den loveseat, where he normally relaxes and watches me as I putter about the house. At one point, I sat with him for a cuddle, and told him that Santa comes tonight. We talked about how Santa brings presents, of course, and wondered what goodies the jolly chief elf might leave for Kai.

A short time later, I was standing at the kitchen sink sorting cranberries(*). I thought Kai was still on the loveseat, but suddenly realized that I was hearing a racket under the Christmas tree. I peered around the corner.

There was Kai. He was sticking his nose between the presents under the tree, giving each a sniff, and then shoving it out of his way in order to inspect the next package. It appeared, and felt, and was certainly confirmed by the emotions sensed, that Kai was just making sure Santa hadn’t come early and left his present under that tree!

I had to move him out of there several times, and tell him to “Leave it” (a cue he normally obeys on the first issue without any arguments). Kai was determined to make sure his present wasn’t there!

The above photo was taken just a short while before writing this post. After finally convincing the blackdog of the family that the packages under the tree were not to be tossed and sorted by a long pointy Saluki nose, this is the spot Kai chose to settle in. Yes, there’s a patch of sunshine there…but there are numerous other, larger, and more easily accessed patches in the house as well.

That old Santy Claus sure isn’t going to sneak by KaiGuy!

(*Every Christmas Eve, I make special cranberry breads.  I use whole fresh cranberries, which have to be cleaned and sorted.  I was actually rather disappointed with this season’s cranberry crop.  I wound up having to throw away almost a third of the berries in the bags purchased from our local supermarket’s produce department. I’ve never seen so many overripe, and even rotten, berries in a batch before.  Don’t worry, though, there were plenty of good berries to make two lovely loaves for Christmas morning breakfast.)

No related posts.

You can read that previous post here….

I’ve been back and forth to the center numerous times since, of course, and always look for Firenze among the group.  Until recently, the llamas had limited freedom, as illnesses and problems were being treated.  Most of them are doing well, though, and recently they’ve been allowed into the larger front pasture.  They’re ecstatic about all the room, the browse and grazing, and the ability to really stretch out and soak up the sun.

I’ve had the chance to stop by a few times in the past week, as I’ve been helping Wes to hunt down mealworms to feed several recently rescued bats.  On Tuesday, when I dropped off the first batch of mealworms, I said hello to the llamas, who were enjoying the sunshine.  As my son and I left the center and came around the farm road, we passed a group of llamas lying in the sun, among whom was Firenze.

Stopping the car, I called his name through the open passenger side window.  Of all the llamas in the group, only he responded.  His head came up, his ears went up, and he stared right at me.  I greeted him, and he watched the entire time as my son and I sat there, and as we drove away.

Today, more mealworms in hand, I stopped back in.  After putting the buggies in the ‘fridge, I walked around the kennel building to see Firenze, with deliberation, coming from the rear of the pasture toward me.  He came right up to the fence, the only llama of the large group to even acknowledge my presence, and stood watching me with interest all the while I was saying hello.  After several minutes, another llama became curious about the attention I was giving Firenze, and wandered over.  Firenze flattened his ears and walked away, heading down the hill away from me.

I assumed he’d just had enough chat, or that he didn’t want the other llama encroaching upon his space.

I got in my car, pulled out, and drove down the road.  As I came to the bottom corner of the lower pasture, however, I was greeted by the sight in the picture (which was snapped with my cellphone, so I apologize for the awful quality, or lack thereof).

Firenze, completely alone, no other llamas in sight, was standing at the bottom corner of the pasture.  His head was up, neck stretched high, ears pricked up in obvious attentive concentration.

He looked for all the world as if he was waiting for me.

Nearly a hundred llamas, and I’ve spoken at length to only one, was gifted by only one with the permission to give him a name.  And that llama, out of the entire group, appears to have decided I’m worthy of his personal notice.

Coincidence?  I know what I think about that…how about you?

And yes, I am extremely honored.

Related posts:

1. Communication With A Llama: Firenze
2. The Montana “New York 100″ Llamas Arrive at NELR
3. Llama Sanctuary Crisis

"Firenze"

When I first reached for the llama with the white neck and black head, he didn’t recognize my introduction. I then showed him an image of myself in front of the squeeze chute, on “Cornell Day”, taking photos. I received a noncommittal recognition then, “Oh, yeah.”

He then explains that his association with the memory is minimal, because he was upset and distracted. He wants to know what that indignity was all about, why did we force them into that contraption, poke and prod, and insult them like that?

I explain how the vets were checking them for health issues, giving them injected medications to try to improve and protect their physical well-being. I apologize for the indignity of it all, and for the upset and sometimes fear they were experiencing. I show them it was necessary to our continued care of them.

I also try to explain how a very important part of the procedure was to give each individual animal an identity (scanning the microchips, taking photos to match). He seems to see this as rather silly, says that they each have identities, whether or not the humans recognize them. I acknowledge that this is true, but we humans who care deeply for their welfare needed something that *we* could relate to, so that we might honor that individuality.

He thinks about this for a moment and thanks me. He shows me a new feeling of respect. He does not recall anyone human treating him as an indivual before. This seems foreign but pleasant to him.

He says that “maybe he likes me now”. I feel very honored by this, and tell him that I like him very much, too.

He’d like to know what the plan is now. He says he likes the food, though the quarters are a bit close. He hasn’t known this much free choice food in a long time. This is good.

I let him know that the plans are, once the weather allows for it, to expand their place so that they have lots of room to roam and stretch. We need to make sure their vaccinations and worming are current, though, and keep an eye on them for serious health issues to develop. I ask if he understands how debilitated some of his companions are.

He says I have no idea the extent of it. Several of his friends out in the big place with no food died in front of him.

I show him how, by keeping them all in a smaller area for the time being, we can get to them more easily if someone needs medical attention. The idea of humans actually giving attention, trying to fix what’s wrong, treating illness rather than just allowing the bodies to die, is foreign to him. He says he believes he respects this concept, but he must really think about it, to allow himself to understand.

He wants to know why we care. He’s not used to humans who care, though he does have vague memories of times before he arrived at the big place with all the animals, where people would stroke him and talk to him. He didn’t pay attention then, he didn’t really appreciate it, he was a llama and only really concerned about other llamas.

Now, however, he’s seeing caring, after a long time where no one cared. This is different, it means something now, he’s acknowledging it as a good thing.

I let him know that once everyone is stable, and the weather kinder, we plan to allow them more room to roam, to stretch, to browse. He’d like this, and says that he does think he understands why we need to wait a while.

I then tell him that, once everyone is in decent health, they will once again go to different homes. This will only be allowed to people who truly care about their welfare and are dedicated to giving them life long comfort and care. These people will be carefully screened to make sure their intentions are the very best. We brought them all here, to make sure they have healthy, secure, safe lives from now on.

He replies that it’s a very foreign concept to him, that humans would go to all this trouble. He’d begun to see humans as something very separate from animals, something that did not even wander the same level of awareness. All of the recent attention, even the stuff that has been upsetting (like being forced through that metal contraption and poked with needles), now is showing him that humans might actually pay attention to others. This is strange to him, but he says he is willing to consider it as a good thing, to open up to the connections.

He seems startled at that thought, and I ask him why. He says that it made him realize that he has in fact just opened up to a connection… to me. Not something he has ever experienced before. He has begun to look upon those caring for him now as good humans, which is strange enough to him, for they show an awareness of him and his companions, and give him positive attention. Even then, he had not considered actually communicating with one … though as he reaches around, several others of his llama companions indicate that they’ve also been surprised by being touched by human minds in an understanding way.

I express to him that I hope, from now on, all of his human connections are positive and pleasant ones.

He seems surprised that I have that level of compassion. He likes this, and issues me a quiet, gentle praise.

I thank him sincerely. I then ask him if he has a name, remembers having ever been called anything unique by other humans in his past.

He does not remember … recent events, and negative associations what they are, he thinks that, if ever he was given a name by a human, it has been erased.

I tell him that when I look at him, I see a highly intelligent being within a handsome form. I think of creatures which we humans consider magical, and show him the character from the Harry Potter stories, the centaur Firenze, who was a star gazer and yet willing to make connections with the humans around him in a way that his kind usually did not acknowledge. Since he has spoken to me in this way, so generously, I ask if he would mind if I think of him as Firenze.

He says it’s a very human thing, he supposes, to want to attach “names” like this. He knows who he is by feel, by inner knowing, and doesn’t need a “word” the way humans seem to name things. However, he now thinks of me kindly, and if this is something I wish to do, he does not mind. He respects “Firenze” and understands the connection.

So, in my mind, my new friend (he thinks about this as I share it with him, and approves of “friend”) is Firenze.

Related posts:

1. Friend Firenze
2. Llama Sanctuary Crisis

That's Stripes looking at the camera

Quite a few friends have asked me to try to catch some updated chatter from the Starlings, Stars and Stripes.  Last time I managed to acclimate them to the little mini cassette recorder on their cage, it was Stars who went into chat-box mode.  Today, Stripes stepped up to the mic.  I had close to an hour of sounds, much of which was just whistling and “squirking” (a noise that is just a plain old Starling noise).  There was a lot of French Fry yelling at the Starlings, too, which sounds just like an angry sparrow for some odd reason.  ::grins::  I didn’t include those.  Instead, I went through the tape with good old Audacity (free sound editing software for Windows) and picked out some of Stripes’ clearest talking.  You’ll note there’s some repetition here (he was in “Where’s Mommy” mode today, but I only included two of about two dozen of those).

And now, for your listening pleasure, without further ado, and all that jazz….

Stripes the Talking Starling!

WhosABabyBirdie1.mp3 – He’s actually saying this, and variations, a couple times.  Listen for the “Who’s a (something) baby birdie” bit.  Would love to hear comments below on what you think he’s managed to fill that blank in with.  You’ll also hear some whistling and “Pptt” — or however you spell it.  A lovely sound my husband taught them.

WhosMommysBabyBirdie.mp3 – He starts out with “Sweet baby”, which always lures me right in, so you’ll hear me sounding very silly as I interact with him.  They know where to hit me every time.  Then he gets me with “Who’s mommy’s baby birdie” and I can’t help the giggle.  Sorry, I’m a sucker for cuteness, what can I say.  That is Stars whistling over him at the start.

WhosAPrayBeeBirdie.mp3 – In my recent book review of Temple Grandin’s “Animals in Translation”, I mentioned how Stars and Stripes combined “Baby” and “Pretty” to create “PrayBee”.  You can hear that here fairly clearly.

WhosABabyWhosAPrettyBird.mp3 – The beginning isn’t terribly clear, but I think what I initially tagged as “Who’s a Baby” is actually “Sweet Baby”.  At the end he starts a “Who’s a–” but cuts it short.

WhosABabyBird(various)Chirpy.mp3 – Okay, he’s on a tear here.  “Chirpy” is my husband, Joe, for some Starling Only Knows reason.  He tosses in a “Kiss Mommy” and a “Where’s Mommy” at least once, a Chirp and a “Pptt” and … well, you figure it out. 

WheresMommy(x2).mp3 – A pair of “Where’s Mommies” and a “Pptt”.

WheresMommy(short).mp3 – Quick, but clear.

Sneeze.mp3 – Making fun of the human condition.  Yeah, they do sound-effects, too.  ::snort::

KisstheKittyKitty.mp3 – And he closes out with a nice wolf whistle.

HelloKittyKittyKitty.mp3 – I’m not sure why kitties always seem to elicit that wolf whistle … taunting destiny, maybe?  Flirting with Danger?  “Hello”, even though it always seems to be the thing most people try to teach their birds first, came very late (despite us sitting like fools repeating it endlessly in front of them) in the Starlings’ vocabulary.  It’s a bit slurred when they say it, but I think you can hear it.

Related posts:

1. My Starlings Talking
2. Starling Sixpack, and Baby Season
3. RAOKA’n Robins. Er, Starlings.

No related posts.

Trust

Yes, that is a Starling on my head

I believe I’ve learned more about Trust in the last couple of years than in all my many years prior put together.  I’ve learned who I can trust, and have learned who I can’t.  I’ve learned that you can’t always trust the people who are supposed to be there to help you through hard times.  I’ve learned that, sometimes, the ones you didn’t think you’d be able to trust turn out to be the most reliable.

However, more than anything else, the ones who’ve taught me the most about Trust have been animals.  I often find that to be the case, and more than once, people have heard me say that in order to learn about the best parts of humanity one must observe one’s own dog.  Since early 2008, however, I’ve had the honor to work with animals that most of my fellow humans only get to observe from afar (or on the Discovery Channel): wildlife.  That was the year I received my wildlife rehabilitators license, and began to help wild things in need.

When a wild animal in need looks you in the eye, relaxes, and allows you to help it…Trust.  That is a Trust that is completely on faith, perhaps a Trust born of desperation.  It’s a trust that is wholly un-earned, for most wild animals have no experience with humans other than to know they are to be avoided.  When a wild thing gives itself over to your hands, and to your care, you are hit with the impact of a Trust that will shake you right to the core.  Not only that, it will enflame within you a desire to be worthy of that trust.  You will do your best.  You will tend, you will care, you will nurture, you will heal, and then….

You will let go.  Just as that animal put its total Trust into your hands, you will then reach the point that you must release it back into the wild.  Then, after all your hard work, all the love you have poured into raising that being, into healing its wounds, into bring it back to freedom, your only recourse is to Trust the universe to help it survive.

For some of us, reaching that point of ultimate Trust in nature is hard.  It’s not that we don’t know that Nature can and will provide.  It’s just that we have devoted so much, and loved so deeply, that it’s difficult to turn the care of our little friends over.  Once they fly free, we have lost control of their fate.  Trust, at that point, is removed from the realm of conscious decision.

Trust becomes our only option.

I, for the most part, have been specializing in songbirds.  They usually come to me as babies.  I hold them in my hands, I feed them every twenty minutes, I worry over teaching them to eat on their own.  I move them outdoors when the time comes, and teach them what it’s like to live as “real birds” do.  I currently have twelve wild birds that I’m caring for.  Ten of those twelve are, as I type, being conditioned for release.  I’ve seen them from naked nestlings to full grown juveniles, and soon I know I must open the release cage and let them go.

Will they stay around?  I’ll be providing food and water and shelter should they choose to do so.  Will they connect with others of their species and join the natural life of migration and propagation?  Will I ever see them again?

I don’t know.  All I can do … is Trust.

(And maybe cry a little….)

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The RAOKA mission seeks to remind us that Random Acts of Kick Arse happen all around us. The concept was begun by Sami, of Life, Laughs and Lemmings. Each month, a member of Sami’s RAOKA groupies picks a new theme to focus our attention on something positive and good in this world.

On the first Wednesday of the month (or Thursday for you folks living on the other half of this world) we all post about what we’ve observed.

May’s theme for RAOKA will be “Serenity”, chosen by Zeenat of Positive Provocations!

Please visit the other RAOKA members and enjoy their thoughts on the theme of the month:
Lance at Jungle of Life
Lori at Jane Be Nimble
Zeenat at Positive Provocations

[logo designed by Melissa at Operation Nice]

Related posts:

1. Trust and Innocence
2. Challenge Game #1: Trust What You Get
3. RAOKA for January: Gratitude

It’s a good bird, a nice bird.  Strangely enough, a relatively quiet bird (compared to the starlings).  I know most people’s experience with Common Grackles would not include the word “quiet” in the description, but in this case it applies.  I like the bird.

I like it better now that it is finally, after weeks and weeks–weeks long beyond the time that its parents would have left it behind–eating on its own.  I’m not totally sure yet that it’s eating enough to sustain, so I’m still spoon feeding a couple times a day just to supplement.  However, it seems to be doing well.  It does like to float food in its water dish rather than eat it, which is a Grackle Thing.  It would much rather eat junk food (dehydrated mealworms) than its balanced diet.  But at least it’s eating.

Still, I can’t wait to get the Grackle, those three nice little House Finches, and that sixpack of Starlings outside into the soft-release cage.

Ah, yes, the cage.  It’ll be great when it’s finished, but “finished” may be a long way off.  Did I tell you all about the cage?  Thanks to Wes and NY Wildlife Rescue Center, I now have, sitting in my back yard, a nice little piece of history.  Those readers who grew up in and around New York state may recognize it, in fact.  One friend even told me she’s pretty sure she has a photo somewhere of herself as a child standing in front of the thing.

The Catskill Game Farm was, for generations, a stand-out vacation spot for New York families.  I spent many hours there, and there are reams of old slides in this house to preserve the memories.  Several years ago, the farm closed down, and the owners auctioned off all of the equipment, rides, cages, and even the animals.  The Catskill Game Farm is no more.  However, Wes managed to get ahold of two of the poultry cages.  This one was the better preserved of the two.

That makes me wonder what the other one looks like.  The more we look at this cage as we attempt repairs, the more we realize needs to be done.  Last night, between jobs, my hubby spent an hour or so replacing several of the bottom support boards.  He’ll be building that up so that it’s level and putting in a new floor over the one that’s there.  The problem turns out to be that much of the wood is so rotted, it will not hold the new hardware cloth we’ll have to install to make the cage safe for songbirds.  The door will also need to be replaced, as it’s rotted at the corners to a point that little birds like my finches will easily be able to either escape or hang themselves trying.  The door issue can be temporarily remedied by hanging raptor netting inside the opening, which would have to be done anyway to prevent escapes while feeding and watering, but it’s not really the most secure solution.

Initially, we’d thought that just coating the wire on the inside with 3 or 4 gauge (1/3″ or 1/4″ gauge) hardware cloth would be all it needed to make it into a songbird release cage.  Not so.

We’re picking up supplies as needed, though having a time finding the smaller gauge hardware cloth.  Many stores have half-inch.  However, in the past, I’ve seen a goldfinch strangle itself on half-inch wire; their little heads are tinier than they look under those pretty feathers.  I’d definitely prefer not to re-build the entire cage with what’s readily available only to have to re-do the whole thing after losing a bird because I rushed the repairs.

It will be worth the effort, though, and it feels really nice to have a piece of history–a piece of my own childhood–sitting in my yard.  I’ll definitely be adding to the sanctuary, creating larger aviaries in addition to this one, but it’ll be a nice start once it’s bird-worthy.

For the future, I rather like the portable cage plans found on StFrancisWildlife.org.  I can see my yard housing several of these nice aviaries, large enough for even the bigger songbirds.  They seem simple enough to build (once again, if one can locate a supply of quarter-inch hardware cloth), and very serviceable.  They can easily be adapted for other animals, as well.  They would make great squirrel cages.  Not that I’d be rehabbing squirrels (see my recent post on the subject, ::smiles::).

By the time it’s finally done, perhaps the Grackle will be wholly self-feeding.

Would you like to help get things up and running?  Wes and NY Wildlife Rescue Center have been a godsend to my birdie hopes.  It was he who showed up with the Game Farm cage, they who made sure we had a safe dog yard when we moved into this house recently, and they always seem to come through with support, work efforts and funds when needs arise.  Please visit their website and leave a donation.  If you like, you can let them know it’s a ‘thank you’ for helping out with the songbirds.

In addition, if you know of a good hardware cloth supplier in the general area of Schoharie County, NY, please let me know. Tractor Supply Co. and Agway are local sellers of bird supplies, and both offer gift cards (the former can be purchased online), as well.  Both NY Wildlife and I do a lot of our shopping for the birds and wildlife in those locations.

Also, by shopping Duncraft, a fantastic supplier of goodies for wild bird enthusiasts, through the ads on this website, small donations will gradually accrue and all of those funds will be used to support our wild songbird rescue program.

Related posts:

1. Baby Birds Grow So Fast!
2. Wild Bird Rescue in Winter
3. Baby Bird Season, ’010 (And Then There Were Ten)

One of Darcy's rescues, "Chipper"

My friend Darcy rescues squirrels.  She takes them in as little orphans, raises them lovingly, prepares them for the wild, and then releases them so they can be “real squirrels” again.  Unlike her husband Wes, who does not name wildlife (this has sort of become a running joke, perpetuated by the likes of “Oscar”, “Deja Vu”, “One-Eyed Susie”, etc), she gives each squirrel a name…and it amazes me that Darcy can actually tell them apart.

My thoughts on squirrels?  “Better her than me”.

Oh, they’re cute.  They’re energetic, lively, resilient, funny little beings.  They have unbounded energy, and one can’t help but respect their enthusiasm for life.  However, I have a bone to pick with squirrels.

You see, my rescue love, wildlife-style, anyway, is baby songbirds.  In order to release them properly, I need to keep secure feeding stations filled, so that the little ones can have plenty of sustenance available as they learn to find their wild foods in the area.

This has been made more of a challenge than necessary…thanks to squirrels.

Every morning, I take two one pound coffee cans full of seed out to my front feeders–the good stuff, too.  It’s the kind with less waste, that includes goodies like dried cherries and peanuts and raisins.  It’s the expensive stuff, as I want to make sure my birdies have a wide variety of good things to eat.  I fill those front yard feeders, and an hour later…they’re empty.

I run back and forth, scolding and chasing, but the little beasties just keep coming.  Although I probably have more than just the three, and some of what I’m seeing may of course be different squirrels, the ones I’ve spoken to, anyway, appear to be a pair of red squirrels and a single very large and extremely fluffy gray.

You know, if the squirrels were actually eating the food, I don’t think I’d mind it as much.  They’re not, though.  They’re hoarding it.  I mean, come on, three squirrels can’t possibly eat, or even remotely require, two one pound cans full of bird seed every morning.  The red squirrels tell me they have babies (oh that’s just wonderful, more squirrels to feed) but heck, they could be feeding their babies, their siblings, their first, second and third cousins, and their late Uncle Pete’s third wife’s sister in law’s entire extended family–and still have three fourths of that seed left over every day.

Even hoarding that much seed is useless.  It would rot months before they got to eat it all, and probably long before they’ll even need to tap into their stores this coming winter.

Now, you know me.  You know I’d never hurt an animal.  You know I love all wild creatures.  But I have to confess, these squirrels are pretty darned frustrating.  The red squirrels insist they need the food for the babies.  When I try to convince the gray squirrel he’s taking more than he needs, he simply cannot wrap his mind around the thought that there is such a thing as “more than he needs”.   He just brushes me off and goes on his little obsessive-compulsive pathological hoarder’s way.  I recall, when studying Native American philosophy, lessons about the wild brethren and how they take only what they need and do not waste the earth’s resources.

All respect intended, but I have a feeling the teacher who penned that lesson never met a squirrel.

I’m paying through the nose for really good, expensive bird seed…and the darned squirrels are stuffing their cheeks, over and over again, and throwing it away!

I’ve tried various deterrents.  So far the squirrels have figured them all out.  They get around the barriers–and those squirrel proof bird feeders that close the ports when the squirrel steps on the bar?  Those only work for gray squirrels to start with, as if you set them sensitive enough for red squirrels they also close on the blue jays and cardinals and doves.  As to the gray squirrels, the feeders only work until the squirrel figures out all he has to do is sit on the roof of the feeder and hold on to the edge.  Then he can lean over and snick the seeds through the ports.

I’ve tried feeding “squirrel foods” of various kinds.  They like the expensive bird seed mix better (who wouldn’t? With all those cherries and peanuts, it smells good enough for me to eat!)

For a while, I was refilling feeders in the afternoons, but that just gave the squirrels twice as much food to waste.  When I release my rescue babies, I’ll be setting up more feeders in the back yard as well…no doubt the squirrels will enjoy that tremendously.

Before starting this post, I had just loaded up my container of seed, and gone out to fill the feeders for the day.  As I stepped out onto the front deck, a blur of fur ducked under the big spruce trees near the feeders:  a gray squirrel, two red squirrels…and a pair of chipmunks.

Great.  Just bleepin’ great.  They’ve invited the neighbors.

Related posts:

1. Birds and Bird Sanctuaries
2. Baby Birds Grow So Fast!

All that has changed!  I’ve finally, after quite a few months of trying to figure out a way to record them, come to a solution.  You see, if they see any kind of recording device, they clam right up.  Likewise with becoming upset at the sight of the camera.  However, for the past several days, I’ve been acclimating them to the presence of a micro cassette recorder placed on top of their cage.  Today, finally, they resumed their normal chatter with it running.

Please excuse the background noise and less than pristine quality of these clips.  I’ve got a cable on the way that will allow me to patch the cassette recorder directly into the microphone jack on my computer.  However, Stars was so chatty this morning that I couldn’t resist doing this the hard way … by just holding the mic to the speaker on the recorder.

These clips are in the form of .wav files, so any computer that can play standard sound files should be able to hear them.  Clicking the link for each file should open it in a new browser tab or window for you.

And now, without further ado, I present to you Stars Nastasi, the talking Starling! (His clutch mate also talks, by the way, but Stars seems to be the more vocal of the duo).

1. laugh.wav (632K) — We start out with a short clip of Stars laughing.  I can’t hear this silly chuckle without laughing myself.  It’s as addictive as a yawn!

2. (whoshere)_Mommy.wav (451K) — You hear me ask, “Who’s here?” and Stars responds, “Mommy!”

3. whosaprettybird(short).wav (433K) — Their favorite phrase is “Who’s a pretty bird?”

4. whosaprettybird(clear).wav (1447K) — Stars wolf-whistles then whistles a little song.  Then he says “Who’s a baby”, and then, really clearly, “Who’s a pretty bird?”  I respond and then he says, more quietly, “Who’s a bay-bird” (baby-bird contraction).

5. pretty_baby_conversation.wav (1331K) — Stars says “You’re a pretty baby” and I respond with the same.  Then I repeat that just as he says “Bird.”  And then he asks, “Who is a baby” and then “Who’s a pray-bee?” (their combination of “pretty” and “baby”).

6. kisses_here-kitty_whistles.wav (513K) — My favorite.  You’ll hear Stars mew-mew, then do some kisses (part of calling the cat).  He then says, “Here, Kitty!” and wolf-whistles.

Related posts:

1. Stripes The Talking Starling
2. RAOKA’n Robins. Er, Starlings.
3. Baby Bird Season, ’010 (And Then There Were Ten)