Caribe came to me with talons tipped with incredibly sharp 18 gauge needles. This is a bad thing. He'd not been handled for a LONG time, and his cage did not offer him any way to wear down his talons.
Even I know this.
And I've never had a Full Grown Blue And Gold Macaw before! Up to this day in December 2001, my biggest bird was a conure, cockatiels before that. NO experience with a bird that weighs over two pounds, has a wingspan of about 40 inches, and is about 35 inches long, beak to tail tip.
I was, officially, no doubt about it, in the deep end of the pool. Me and my big mouth!
I was in a bird club. A good club. Lotsa great folks, broad variety of birds. It was a tight knit little community that took care of its own, and its birds.
Can't recall the conversation, but somewhere in it, I agreed to "sit" a Blue and Gold macaw, named Caribe, for two weeks, while his female owner went to see kin. "It'll be fun," they said.
Now, come to find out, Caribe's a "man's" bird. Birds, especially big, smart ones, pick who they want to bond with. Caribe bonded with a man, who subsequently passed when Caribe was about four years old. His widow kept Caribe, tried to do the right things.
Fellow club member, very caring bird owner, but Caribe was just too much bird for her. It happens. Best thing to do is admit it and move on, doin' right by the bird in the process.
The deal is simple. She brings the cage, we set it up, I keep Caribe for two weeks. She comes back, Caribe goes home. I even get paid for my troubles.
All I gotta do is keep food and water fresh, give him some outta the cage time. Provide some companionship...some company, if you will. Talk to him. Give him some entertainment, some distraction, something to be interested IN.
Well, that involves HANDLING him! With toesies that instantly pierce your skin.
Not to mention me stickin' my hand and arm into a cage, with a strange, LARGE, quite confused, seldom handled bird that knows me NOT one little bit! And, who, by the way, can pop a walnut open with one crunch. Think about THAT a second.
Piece of cake!
I'm an old pro. Years and years of experience with critters, in the AF Veterinary Service for 15 years. Always had critters. ALWAYS! I ain't askeered of no BIRD! We just gonna have to have a little Come to Jesus, and everything will be just fine.
I got most of the bleeding stopped within the hour. Even with sleeves cut from sweatshirts on my forearms, it was an EVENT! I guess I "prevailed." I got him outta the cage pretty quick, took my first hit from his top beak, broke the skin. Sat on my arm, went on the cage. We got kinda face to face, very respectfully. I was able to touch his head a bit.
Let him explore, look around. He's in my "office," with four great windows on one side, two more on another. I live in the woods, surrounded by Florida trees and foliage.
He's interested, I can tell. I been readin' up on macaws ever since I knew he was comin.' I ain't the brightest, but I ain't DUMB, neither. I even gave him some "floor time." He wandered around, checked out the dog, the cat, and his surroundings. Pretty soon, he climbed back up his cage.
"Time to go back in your cage, Caribe." Seems like a simple request, don't it? Well, seems Caribe kinda liked bein' OUT of his cage. Can't say I blame him. He'd been locked up a long time.
I approach, he trots to the other corner. I move around, he moves around. I move faster, he moves faster. Get a helper, try to "herd" him to the door side. Once we both get to the front, he takes off for the back. He's done this before, obviously!
So, hadda get out the big guns. Got the broom. Used the stick end. He can either step up, or flee to the front of the cage, and inside. He actually stepped up, so that told me he knew THIS routine, too. A good thing to know, fer sure! Transferred him to my arm, a few more pin pricks through the sleeve. OK...a LOT of pin pricks! "Time to GO IN, Caribe!"
Put him to bed. Fresh food and water. Talked to him for a long time, sitting by his cage. It's partially covered, but he can lean down to see me. He does. I do most of the talkin.' He listens. And then...he purred! I'd only read about it. In person, it kinda grabs you by the aorta.
I think that was the moment I knew he was NOT gonna be leaving my house...not ever.
So ended day one of my now 16 year relationship with the one I have dubbed "Caribus Magnificus." For that he is.
Be talkin' to you.....Web Rydr
P.S. Saddens me greatly, but I have no images of Caribe from this time. An ill-timed computer tragedy, which cost me greatly in many ways. So, I've used representative images of Caribe, and the environment is where Caribe, Bravo and I lived when I resumed taking pictures. Bravo's turn will come next.