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Harley Comes Home

"I have nothing to fear, and here my story ends.
My troubles are all over, and I am at home."

 
Harley was hatched in April of 1993 and was sold as a weaned baby to my friend's boyfriend.  As my friend rapidly realized that her boyfriend didn't care for this bird properly (an all too often occurrence, sad to say) she pretty much dumped the boyfriend, but kept the bird.
 
A couple of  years ago, my husband and I visited Portland, Oregon, where my friend now lived, and met Harley for the first time.  She was very quiet during our visit, but definitely exhibited some coy behavior towards my husband which was very funny.  Not knowing anything about the raging hybrid debate (as none of us did) we just thought that this was the most magnificent macaw we had ever seen.  The visit got us to think, "Wouldn't it be neat to have a parrot?"
 
We read a lot and thought a lot and then read a lot some more.  We talked to people and read other bird owner stories both good and bad and thought about it some more.  We analyzed our rather quiet, homebody lifestyle and thought about it even more.  After a couple of years of this, we began to realize that it was really inevitable that we would become parrot owners.  We started to think that an African Gray would be fun (and it is highly likely that this will become our second bird) and considered other smaller parrots.  Secretly, though, I always thought, "if I am going to have a parrot, I would just LOVE to have a macaw."  My friend and I are both voracious emailers and we talked back and forth about the parrot thing and how we just hadn't found the right bird.  Then one day in May of 1999 I got an email from my friend that read, "How are you doing?  Have you found a bird yet?  I'm really sad because I have just become so busy that I don't have enough time for Harley and I am trying to find her a new home."  The email went on to describe how she had her in another home for a while but had to take Harley back because she scared the woman's son too much.  I talked about our poor friend's dilemma and suddenly it hit us.  Though my friend had never mentioned this (and probably never considered this since she lived a thousand miles away) we wondered if maybe this was "the bird" for us.

Well, one thing led to another and we ended up telling my friend that we would love to have her bird.  By this time I knew a lot more about the hybrid question (I have a wonderful link in the Articles section of this site) and knew that this was probably part of the problem with finding her a new home.  (For instance, I recently came across a breeder site in which hybrids were actually referred to as "worthless birds"!)  But, I didn't care what Harley was, and I suspected that Harley just thought she was a parrot and just needed love and a caring home.  So we got Harley for a ridiculously low price and rented a van and drove up to get her.
The drive up California/Oregon was just beautiful, although we were nervous as all get out.  We arrived within about 12 hours in Portland and settled in for a nice light dinner.  Harley took food from my hand immediately, despite my fright of the incredibly large beak which looked larger than ever. 

We also took her on a "light" hike (my friends have a very strange idea of what a light hike is - I was exhausted at the end!) through the Columbia Gorge.  It was there we saw the extreme fear that can occur when your bird is frightened away.  She was such a really good bird for most of the hike.  We brought the remnants of harness (Harley hates them and will chew threw them voraciously until they are in pieces) but didn't put it on her.  While crossing an open bridge across a river something spooked Harley and she swooped (her wings are clipped though she can glide a bit) to a nearby but very inconveniently located tree.  It took an hour with repeated "Up"s with an extended branch to finally get her to come down.  Lesson learned.

Sunday night, we prepared her cage and began to load up the van for the move early the next morning.  I stayed with Harley in the living room while she sat on her perch and she screeched wildly as she watched her cage being rolled away and out of the house.  This led to our decision to leave then instead of waiting until morning, hoping that the dark van would keep her calm and make the move easier.  We planned to stop in a few hours at a rest stop and catch a nap.

The night drive went well, and when morning dawned, Harley was alert but quiet.  We began to wonder if maybe we had gotten a bird that didn't talk much, when the beginings of quiet little "Hello"s began to come from the travel cage in the back seat behind us.  Slowly, Harley warmed up and began to chatter so much we were holding our aching sides from laughing.  When stopped at the state border we were asked by the gentleman at the station what kind of bird she was and she said "Bye bye" as clear as a bell while driving away.  She kept repeating "apple" as we drove, causing us to stop everywhere we could think of at various road stops until we could find one.  We made the hysterically funny discovery that she just loves french fries.  (Yes, this is fattening for her, but as an occasional treat of 4-5 fries, she seems so happy.)  All in all, the trip of 12 hours to Portland turned into a trip of about 20 hours to return. 

Then came our first week.....what can I say?  The words shell shocked come to mind.  In fact, a gentleman at work was presented with his first baby that same week and we realized that both of us were wandering around with that same "what have I done?" dazed look in our eyes.  The enormity of it came crashing down seemingly all at once.  My husband and I quickly realized that we were so physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausted because all we had for her was her cage and plain wooden perch.  She was needy for attention and without any other enrichment her choice was us.  We bought her a HUGE JungleTalk play gym and a smaller table top gym for dinner time and despite the expense it was all tremendously worth it.
 
Needless to say, we survived the first week, and it seemed so much easier afterwards.
One of the funniest Harley stories involves watching some magic special on TV.  I never caught the name of the program, but there were a variety of magicians on the show.  Harley was sort of watching from time to time.  One magician came on, a young looking guy, hip, with long dark hair and nothing on but black pants and vest.  No shirt.  I imagine it was for the "nothing up my sleeve" thing.  Anyway, he fanned a deck of cards and asked a woman in the audience to pick out a card without showing it to him.  It was the two of spades.  She shuffled it back into the deck and handed the deck to him.  The guy fanned the deck and then crossed and uncrossed his arms in front of him and, suddenly, a Harlequin macaw appeared on his arm with the two of spades in his/her beak!  Harley noticed and screeched.  Her eyes pinned and she became riveted on the screen.  The guy crossed and uncrossed his arms in front of him and another Harlequin appeared on his arm and Harley just lost it, dancing around and squawking at the other parrots on the TV.  Maybe she wanted to know how they did that?  On another occasion there were macaws on a wild nature special.  Harley cracked us up by saying "Hello" repeatedly and trying to preen the birds on the screen.  Funny bird.  I wonder what she thinks of those birds in that 29 inch glass cage?
 
I got proof, at least to my satisfaction, one day that parrots do understand the meanings of the words and phrases that they say.  Harley was outside on the porch playing on her play gym which has wheels and which we sometimes put out in the sun for her.  She was trying to play quietly when a neighbor across the way that I am not particularly fond of, began his usual shouting.  The guy doesn't seem to have a low volume.  Finally, Harley seemed to get annoyed as she ruffled up all of her feathers and then screeched, "Knock it off!" followed by "F***er" (a word she apparently learned in the pet store, because we of course would never teach her that).  It got suddenly quiet and remained so for hours.  I was only glad the guy didn't come out to say anything.  Despite the reputation of parrots, do you really think he would have believed that my bird said it?  (But, Harley gets an atta-girl anyway, because it was what I've wanted to say to him all along.)  An update to this?  Harley recently saw the same guy coming down the stairs from his apartment and called him the same name.  I guess she holds the same opinion I do.  :)
Plain and simple, we love Harley more than we could imagine possible.  She has adjusted incredibly quickly and well.  All our "research" before we got her has paid off as it gave us several ideas on how to handle certain situations or behaviors.  Within a week she was "Velcro bird" with my husband (she has always thought men were just the neatest thing and hubby is no exception.)  Harley and I have been slower to bond, but she mostly obeys me and sometimes even asks for me and perches on my arm while I preen her.  She is far more likely to take food from my hand than from my husband which is sort of cute.  My "perching" arm bears some spectacular bruises sometimes from biting, but each bite is another lesson for me as it always is from something I needed to do different such as sensing her mood better or learning ways to help her perch more easily on my skinnier and looser-skinned arm.  And weekend mornings are amazing as I watch her and my husband play a game we call "cover monster" as she attacks the sheets and generally wrestles with my husband and flops onto her back in joyful play.

Harley is a spoiled bird, as I am sure most other parrot owners can say about their birds.  It is just so easy to lavish our "fids" (feathered kids) with toys and treats and affection.  She is a testament to the beauty of animals and an absolute delight.  I am so glad she is ours.