Results were less successful. In general, there was much more trial and error, although I think the subjects have "favourites" where they often get the right rock on the first try with certain colours. I say "Touch green" or "Touch green rock" and B almost always gets it. Bird C seems better with "Touch pink". I started with 4 targets (green, clear, shiny, pink) then reduced to 2 targets (clear, pink) then added 1 more target (green) and sometimes another target (rust). Perhaps I should be more consistent. I realized 4 was too many to start with, so I just concentrated on teaching "pink" and "clear" until they seemed to get it. Data was not collected for these sessions, which went on several days, since I haven't figured out how to make pretty charts and graphs with the data yet. Sometimes, I'd pull out the target stick to help them learn the answer. Sometimes I'd hold the correct rock up to their beak so that they would learn that touching that green rock when I said "Touch green" would get a click and treat. Then we took a break from training for a few days and just started again today.
B's flying is becoming much more confident. Scary incident last week: We're outside on the back deck and B is getting more and more excited. Suddenly he launches himself off, flies straight down the driveway at the side of the house, and toward the front. We've spent most of our time in the back, where it's quiet and safe, without pedestrians, cars or other vehicles, so I'm nervous and frantically running off to the street in my slippers and pajama pants with C on my hand. I can hear B calling and calling, regular screams, but I can't spot him no matter how much I search the trees and roofs of the neighbouring houses. Usually, he won't fly back towards us unless he can see us. And often, he doesn't unless I see him first and get his attention off his screaming long enough to attempt a flight back.
Suddenly, I see a grey blur zoom from my side of the street across to the other side of the street. I can barely see what it is, but it's not moving like a normal wild bird, so I start screaming his name and waving my arm wildly from the end of the driveway. He must have seen or heard me because the grey blur then takes a sharp turn and veers straight toward me, fast. Then, B lands past me on the driveway. He must have been flying too hard to aim for my hand, because when I pick him up, he's completely out of breath and looks all panicky.
Thank goodness I was there to call out to him so that he could fly back to our driveway instead of getting more lost from a panicked flight. I'm guessing he must have come across a cat, and took off like the devil then. Otherwise, I don't think he would have been flying when he was already tired -- usually he takes his sweet time up on some choice perch while C and I are calling and begging him to come back down for 20 minutes. Plus, we've seen a cat in the area, and I think the house a few doors down has one -- right around where I sawthe grey blur emerge.
B's been a very good bird lately though. Today I took him outside for a flight, and he flew around the backyard twice before landing in the garden, then came right back to us as soon as he could. He's not very good at aiming for a landing on my hand. Sometimes he ends up on my shoulder or the top of my head, or more painfully, scrabbling off my forehead, and sometimes he misses me altogether. I'm not sure if he's landing in low spots (driveway, garden) on purpose these days, so that I can pick him up easier, or if he just runs out of steam at the last minute.
Or maybe he doesn't like the roof any more. A couple of days ago, it was sunny and I took them outside; as usual, he flew and landed on the roof. Sunny day and the black shingles must have been hot. As usual, he likes to run to the edge of the roof before flying, the lazy thing. He'd try running down towards us, but then he'd stop to pick up one of his feet. I tried yelling at him to just fly over, so that he could be off the hot roof, but he'd just take a few steps, then stand there on one foot, beaking the lifted foot. I'm starting to question how clever B really is. He may be too much in the moment to be able to do any of the thinking and planning ahead that would require higher intelligence. I felt pretty helpless, since I knew it must have been really hot, yet I couldn't just get him off that hot roof. When I finally got him back, his feet were baking hot all right, so I took him inside and ran his feet under cold tap water. I hope he didn't get too burned.
Q: What is the victory of a bird on a hot tin roof?
A: Just staying on it I guess, long as he can.
1 comment:
I suspect bird feet are quite hardy and capable of withstanding hot rocks/roofs/etc - self-preservation mechanisms along the lines of 'my feet are being burned, I need to move' are quite hard-wired into most animals surely?
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