There is a great Tom Chapin children’s song called, “Don’t Play with Bruno, Bruno is a Dweeb.” This children’s song off of his Moonboat CD is one of my favorites. Kid’s songs are often favorites with our fids (feathered kids) as well. In “Don’t Play with Bruno” Shirley and Sue refuse to play with Bruno because he is a “dweeb.” Local kids come up and see him digging a hole but the two girls tell them not to play with Bruno because “Bruno is a dweeb.” The kids don’t listen to Shirley and Sue. In the end Bruno finds a bone, a tractor and a lost city. The two girls come over and want to be his friend even if he is a dweeb.
My mentor, Dr. Susan Friedman, PhD, brought this concept up to us in my Living and Learning with Animals Professional Class. When we put labels on living creatures then we force them into a mold of our own making. Calling Bruno a dweeb paints a picture in someone’s mind. It is not a pretty picture and can turn away others from being his friend. At the least this makes others think twice about being meeting him. At its worst these labels can force a child to go without friends—alone without companionship. I was one of those kids. Labeled “fat boy” no one wanted to play with me. Don is a “fat boy” was an incantation that kept me from making many friends.
I have seen the effects of this type of labeling in my own life. It breaks my heart to see it done to parrots that have no way to prove that they are not “mean, evil birds” or little “Hannibal Lecters.” When we get bit or a bird threatens us we often rush to conclusions. We become judge, jury and executioner. We tell others this “enlightening fact” about a bird and then they follow along after us like storm troopers following Der Fuhrer. As the word spreads that bird becomes an outcast. In time, the bird may even be euthanized because of the tales that have been told about him or her.
Chloe was labeled “a starter bird.” How many of you would call her that? How many who know her would say that she is little more than a stepping stone to bigger and better birds? That was their label for her and so she was treated as little more than an ornament.
Dr. Friedman would stand for none of this. She taught us to open our eyes and to observe carefully. She cautioned us to examine our own thoughts and find these gross exaggerations, these unhelpful labels, and jettison them from our thought process. We were taught to observe, form tentative conclusions and put them to the test in a process called the “functional analysis.”
Today I observed a bird that has been labeled by many as “mean and evil.” Observing Pepe as RJ and I tried to towel him for his visit to the vet I noted these behaviors:
Once in the cage he calmed down. His feathers were close to his body, his eyes did not pin when I spoke to him, and he did not attempt to move away from me. His eyes gently fixed on mine.
By this point I knew that the label placed on him was far from the truth. I began to suspect the cause of this label: cage aggression.
I released him into the examination room by opening the cage door. He came out shortly thereafter and sat on the cage. His breathing was regular. His eyes did not pin. His feathers were smooth against his body. All these indicated that he was calm.
He landed on the floor and walked around a bit. His gait was slow and deliberate, and the other signs were as above. It was clear to me that Pepe is not typically aggressive.
When the doctor worked to towel him he ran again. He ran and did not turn back to bite. Eventually he ran up on to my arm and then my shoulder. He sat on the back of my neck for a while. He never even threatened to bite me. I was a complete stranger to him.
After the exam and at RJ’s home he stepped up onto a stick for me. After he no longer looked from side to side and his eyes no longer looked around furtively (as anyone would do in the care of a new, strange (quite strange) person, I put out my arm and he stepped up. What followed was the picture of a “mean evil bird.” He snuggled close to my chest for a while. Then he reached up and gently chewed the button off my shirt occasionally looking up at me. I held him for about 10 minutes and then took him to his cage where he entered inside.
Based on the hearsay of his “biting” behavior it appears that he is cage aggressive. Often a bird will protect its home from any and all comers. This is generally not a problem. Even if the bird tries to bite when you change the food bowls as you open the side hatches there is a simple solution. Don’t change the food and water until the bird comes out to play. Use a stick to get him off and onto his cage. Once on the stick give him a minute or two and ask him to step up.
The story of his “evil nature” became branded on Pepe. No one wanted to send him to hell. The road to hell is paved with good intentions, or so they say. The label hung around his neck could have been a death warrant, though. This, I am sure, is the fate of far too many birds. We must remember that labels have no place in our work where behavior is concerned.
To say that Pepe is sweet, loving and adorable is just to add another set of labels to him. Suppose that you apply these labels and suddenly he bites. What do you do now? Change them for another set of labels? It is better to say that Pepe steps up, cuddles close to your body, plays with buttons, chatters like a lady from the Bronx…all of these things are true. One can also say he lunges at hands near his cage. This is also apparently true from what I am told. Sticking to the facts of observation keeps us from turning our friends, neighbors, and parrots into two-dimensional cartoon characters in our minds.
With the right trainer Pepe will be ready for adoption in a month or two. We’ll need to train the adoptive parent, too. Each bird is a study of one and that makes our work both harder and more satisfying.
For those who labeled Pepe “mean and evil” I have this to say: it took me three weeks of intense study and deep thought to overcome the bulk of this tendency to label things, people and birds. I do not expect anyone to instantly overcome this way of thinking. It is dreadfully hard to do. I haven’t fully won that battle because I still tend to do it. I review my thoughts over and over. I catch myself in the act most of the time but sometimes it takes a few days to realize that I “won’t play with Bruno because Bruno is a dweeb.”
My mentor, Dr. Susan Friedman, PhD, brought this concept up to us in my Living and Learning with Animals Professional Class. When we put labels on living creatures then we force them into a mold of our own making. Calling Bruno a dweeb paints a picture in someone’s mind. It is not a pretty picture and can turn away others from being his friend. At the least this makes others think twice about being meeting him. At its worst these labels can force a child to go without friends—alone without companionship. I was one of those kids. Labeled “fat boy” no one wanted to play with me. Don is a “fat boy” was an incantation that kept me from making many friends.
I have seen the effects of this type of labeling in my own life. It breaks my heart to see it done to parrots that have no way to prove that they are not “mean, evil birds” or little “Hannibal Lecters.” When we get bit or a bird threatens us we often rush to conclusions. We become judge, jury and executioner. We tell others this “enlightening fact” about a bird and then they follow along after us like storm troopers following Der Fuhrer. As the word spreads that bird becomes an outcast. In time, the bird may even be euthanized because of the tales that have been told about him or her.
Chloe was labeled “a starter bird.” How many of you would call her that? How many who know her would say that she is little more than a stepping stone to bigger and better birds? That was their label for her and so she was treated as little more than an ornament.
Dr. Friedman would stand for none of this. She taught us to open our eyes and to observe carefully. She cautioned us to examine our own thoughts and find these gross exaggerations, these unhelpful labels, and jettison them from our thought process. We were taught to observe, form tentative conclusions and put them to the test in a process called the “functional analysis.”
Today I observed a bird that has been labeled by many as “mean and evil.” Observing Pepe as RJ and I tried to towel him for his visit to the vet I noted these behaviors:
- At no time did Pepe, while out of his cage, do anything but run from us
- He squawked and at every opportunity he turned away from us
- His body attempted to twist away from me as I toweled him and placed him in the cage
- Once in the cage he ran to the furthest point from me
Once in the cage he calmed down. His feathers were close to his body, his eyes did not pin when I spoke to him, and he did not attempt to move away from me. His eyes gently fixed on mine.
By this point I knew that the label placed on him was far from the truth. I began to suspect the cause of this label: cage aggression.
I released him into the examination room by opening the cage door. He came out shortly thereafter and sat on the cage. His breathing was regular. His eyes did not pin. His feathers were smooth against his body. All these indicated that he was calm.
He landed on the floor and walked around a bit. His gait was slow and deliberate, and the other signs were as above. It was clear to me that Pepe is not typically aggressive.
When the doctor worked to towel him he ran again. He ran and did not turn back to bite. Eventually he ran up on to my arm and then my shoulder. He sat on the back of my neck for a while. He never even threatened to bite me. I was a complete stranger to him.
After the exam and at RJ’s home he stepped up onto a stick for me. After he no longer looked from side to side and his eyes no longer looked around furtively (as anyone would do in the care of a new, strange (quite strange) person, I put out my arm and he stepped up. What followed was the picture of a “mean evil bird.” He snuggled close to my chest for a while. Then he reached up and gently chewed the button off my shirt occasionally looking up at me. I held him for about 10 minutes and then took him to his cage where he entered inside.
Based on the hearsay of his “biting” behavior it appears that he is cage aggressive. Often a bird will protect its home from any and all comers. This is generally not a problem. Even if the bird tries to bite when you change the food bowls as you open the side hatches there is a simple solution. Don’t change the food and water until the bird comes out to play. Use a stick to get him off and onto his cage. Once on the stick give him a minute or two and ask him to step up.
The story of his “evil nature” became branded on Pepe. No one wanted to send him to hell. The road to hell is paved with good intentions, or so they say. The label hung around his neck could have been a death warrant, though. This, I am sure, is the fate of far too many birds. We must remember that labels have no place in our work where behavior is concerned.
To say that Pepe is sweet, loving and adorable is just to add another set of labels to him. Suppose that you apply these labels and suddenly he bites. What do you do now? Change them for another set of labels? It is better to say that Pepe steps up, cuddles close to your body, plays with buttons, chatters like a lady from the Bronx…all of these things are true. One can also say he lunges at hands near his cage. This is also apparently true from what I am told. Sticking to the facts of observation keeps us from turning our friends, neighbors, and parrots into two-dimensional cartoon characters in our minds.
With the right trainer Pepe will be ready for adoption in a month or two. We’ll need to train the adoptive parent, too. Each bird is a study of one and that makes our work both harder and more satisfying.
For those who labeled Pepe “mean and evil” I have this to say: it took me three weeks of intense study and deep thought to overcome the bulk of this tendency to label things, people and birds. I do not expect anyone to instantly overcome this way of thinking. It is dreadfully hard to do. I haven’t fully won that battle because I still tend to do it. I review my thoughts over and over. I catch myself in the act most of the time but sometimes it takes a few days to realize that I “won’t play with Bruno because Bruno is a dweeb.”
