RAOKA’n Robins. Er, Starlings.

“Gayle, Gayle, you made a  typo in the title of this post!  It should be Rockin’ Robins!”

Neewwwwp.  I spelled, or initialed, anyway, it right.  RAOKA.  It stands for:

Random Acts of Kick-Arse

Sami, a super blogger over at Life, Laughs and Lemmings (I kid you not), came up with this great idea, you see.  She’s setting up a network of other bloggers who will perform Random Acts of Kick-Arse, which essentially means doing nice things for others as a part of living the life of one’s dreams.  I’m seriously considering joining the team, but at the very least, I’ll be following everyone’s antics and doing the cheer-leader thing.

But, although I want everyone to click the link above, the links below, subscribe to the feeds of these bloggers, and follow along as the love is spread around the world, that’s not really what this post is about.  Well, it is, but it’s not.  Well… um….  You’ll see.

The Robins, er, Starlings part

Everyone who’s read this blog for the past year, by now, has become sick of hearing about stuff like pyoderma gangrenosum and wheelchairs and … stuff.  (Okay, I’m not exactly grammatically in-tune this morning, sorry.)  On reading between the lines, everyone’s probably also surmised that I don’t always jump out of bed miss Suzie Sunshine every morning.  I wake up hurting quite frequently, and even though I’m doing morning pages and my joy-journal every day, religiously, before I get out of bed, I still often roll out to face the day with pain in my back pocket.  I try to hold back the frustration, but it’s sometimes hard.

However, once I get out into the kitchen to take care of my pets’ morning needs, everything changes.  I find myself smiling, whistling and singing despite myself.  You see, I have two little pals out there who make sure I start every day with laughter.

Their names are Stars and Stripes.

Our Starlings, Stars and Stripes, as young juveniles

I am, though for obvious reasons I haven’t been very active in the task this year, a wildlife rehabilitator.  Last year, long before the sheep hit the fan, on July 4th, these two tiny baby starlings (though we weren’t sure of their species at the time, it took some extensive internet searching to make that definite) were brought in to the center I volunteer with (NY Wildlife Rescue Center).  I brought them home, fed them every twenty minutes all day every day, and as they were right at the prime age for impressing upon their caretaker … I became a parent.

Although Stars and Stripes recovered from their injuries, they grew completely human-dependent, and could not be released.  Fortunately, in most states in the U.S. (though not all, check your regulations before even thinking about such things), it’s legal to keep a starling in captivity.  These are not native birds, but imports from the U.K., which have spread in great masses across the Americas, and are now considered (gasp) pests.

I have come to realize that there is no cooler bird on earth.

My little ones, who refer to themselves as the “babies”, perform Random Acts of Kick-Arse for me all day long, and start my day out with a barrage of:

Who’s a pretty bird? Who’s a pretty baby? Here, kitty kitty kitty! Come here!  Who’s here?  Who’s a bird, is he pretty? Yeahhhhh.

And on and on and on….  And no, it’s not me talking to the birds that I’m quoting … well, I do ANSWER them when they talk to me.  Starlings Speak.

Yes, English (or whatever human language their … flock … speaks).

Starlings are known in their native countries as “The Poor Man’s Mynah”, for a very good reason.  These birds are phenomenal mimics (and ventriloquists, they fool me every time with their voice-thrown blue jay imitation.  I’ll run to the window to see the blue jays at the feeder only to realize that the stars have snagged me again.)

Stars and Stripes don’t just mimic … they so often seem to understand what they’re saying, and respond appropriately, that it’s uncanny.  They will floor us with full sentences that they’ve never said before.  Sometimes they’ll pick those phrases up as part of their permanent vocabulary, other times they say it once and we don’t hear it again.

For example, not long ago one of them asked their typical, “Who’s a pretty bird?” and when I replied, “My babies are pretty birds,” he asked, “Do you love us?”

I’ve been waiting to hear that one again, and encouraging it, but to date, it was a one-hit-wonder.

The other day, my son was helping feed beasties in the afternoon, and he let the dog in after his constitutional.  Kai trotted past the cage, and one of the starlings asked, “Who’s here?” Devon answered, “It’s the puppy,” and the bird asked, “Can I see him?”

And yes, Devon brought the dog to the cage for the birds, who hopped down to Kai’s level and greeted him nose to nose.  (They also do this with the cat.  Another good reason they’re unreleasable. ::cough::)

My little RAOKA’n Starlings.  They bring me joy, they brighten my days, they give me reasons to laugh even when I’m in a rather un-laughing kind of mood.  I truly believe that Stars and Stripes were brought into my life to make sure I survived the past year.

Not only have I survived, in a large part thanks to them … I’ve thrived.

It’s amazing what we can learn from our animal friends.  Two funny little birds, giving back so much more than they were given, and never giving their joy a second thought.

And yeah.  I think I will sign up with the RAOKA team, if the roster isn’t already full!

[Footnote: Sadly, though "pests" in the States, in their native United Kingdom, starlings, along with english sparrows, are now so endangered that they have been put on the "red list" of endangered species.  Look kindly toward these little "pests" next time you see them ... we may be their last stronghold!]

Sites of Interest:

• Lori’s RAOKA introduction at Jane-Be-Nimble
• Sami’s RAOKA introduction at Life, Laughs and Lemmings
• Lance’s Jungle of Life
• Melissa’s Operation Nice
• Dani’s Positively Present
• Brandi’s Joy Rebellion

Related Posts:

• Joy-Journal by Velma Gallant
• The Artist’s Way