Koji

In May of 1988 I adopted my first bird, a dusky conure named Rico, from a very good friend. He was wearing a band with the year 1987 printed on it. It was his 4th home. A very sweet and friendly bird who would go to anyone and be utterly charming, he had lost his previous homes because he was VERY LOUD. Owning my own detached home, I didn't care about the noise because my family and I were in love with him.

I would take Rico into the yard as the days grew warmer (with clipped wings, of course), and we would hear another conure calling from my neighbor's house. Rico would always call back. At the time I knew nothing about flock communication and didn't realize that the two birds were contacting each other.

My neighbor asked me if I was interested in adopting a nanday conure that he had rescued from a terrible situation. The poor bird had been exiled to the basement and then totally ignored. I told him that I was not interested. Rico and the nanday still called to each other whenever they were in ear shot of each other.

I went back to work in October and Rico was left alone, but his cage was by a north window and he could see the wild birds outside. He called them all "Rico" and he seemed to be pretty well adjusted. In November, my neighbor asked me again if I wanted the nanday and told me the bird was very badly plucked. He had only head, tail, and flight feathers. I agreed to see him. My neighbor said he couldn't keep the bird because the noise was driving him and his family crazy. He kept cockatiels and finches and also had two very small children.

My husband, John, and I climbed the flight of stairs to the second floor landing. In the back of a large cage was the most pathetic creature I ever saw in my life. He looked like a dinosaur. He was very frightened and was screaming his head off. I knew if I looked back at John he would shake his head not to take the bird. I said yes to my neighbor and put my hand in the cage. The bird stepped right up onto my finger, and so I assumed he was tame. He has a beautiful face, very expressive and intelligent looking. We brought him home and, not knowing about isolation, set him up in the living room near Rico. The first few days with the conures were deafening, and I told myself that I needed my head examined. After a few days it became apparent that they knew each other due to their voice communication all summer.

I named my new nanday Kojak for obvious reasons but shortened it to Koji because I thought his feathers would grow back. My neighbor said some had over the summer. That turned out to be untrue. I was also told that he was 8 or 9 years old, but who knows. I took him to the vet and he did some tests. He appeared to be healthy, but one of the tests showed a sluggish thyroid. He was put on medication in the event his feather plucking was caused by a thyroid problem. His feathers didn't grow back.

Koji and Rico got along great. They played together on the playground and soon became bonded. I eventually put them together in a big new parrot cage, which made them very happy. They both shared our dinner every night, and while Koji doesn't let me touch him (he knows how vulnerable he is), he will take food from my hand. He will step up onto my hand inside his cage, and the only time he bites is if he's frightened.

I haven't pushed Koji very hard because he's terror stricken with people. I love him very much and tell him so very often. I also tell him he's beautiful and wonderful. I read that abused animals are either terror stricken or vicious. He is definitely not vicious.

In March of 1993, Rico got very sick and after being in the hospital for a few days died of liver cancer. (By the way, Rico stayed devoted and bonded to me even after becoming bonded to Koji.) When Rico died I was wild with grief. I realized that Koji was grieving too, but he wouldn;t allow me to touch him. I started feeding him warm food (his appetite is enormous) to help him through his bereavement, and it seemed to help. He became more approachable.

Koji needs to socialize, and a few months after Rico died he started making friendly gestures to Sam, my pied cockatiel. Sam had also been abused. He was my third bird, and he and Rico had been very good friends. Koji had always hated Sam because he was jealous of their friendship. Sam is also very vicious and will make me bleed every chance he gets. Poor Sam is not the brightest, as my husband says. When you look at Sam you can see NOBODY IS HOME.

Koji is probably the most intelligent and complicated of my parrots. He knows how to take care of himself and how to be happy. He is extremely sociable and enterprising (he knows where I hide the goodies, and helps himself). He is willing to try any food I offer and was my biggest ally when it same to switching my birds to a pelleted diet. He is completely devoted to Sam. He lets Sam eat the warm food in the morning, even though the dish is big enough for two. If he feels Sam needs to be helped or defended, he's right there.

I long to hold him and I'm working toward that goal. A few years back I clipped his wings, thinking it would make him easier to handle. The poor thing was so miserable and fearful I never did it again. He has been steadfast with me in spite of my ignorance and thoughtlessness.

I love and respect him and value his friendship. I hope our relationship has a very long time to evolve, because I find him a fascinating and exceptional bird.