My Pets’ Revolt
My pets’ spring fling has morphed into a full scale summer assault on my good will. Last night, I composed my ad: “Pet writer seeking peace and quiet seeks loving home for three parrots and one dog.”
Between a new book project and my father’s move to Portland in May, I’ve been spending the minimum time with my pets. Onyx, an active six-year-old Doberman, has been reduced from two walks a day to three long walks each week and liberal use of the fenced backyard. My birds, used to long days outside and plenty of stimulating interaction, have been subjected to a grumbling “Here’s your food and please be quiet thank you very much” twice each day. Maybe it’s been a little better than that, but not much. The results—overload barking and screeching that may bring Animal Control to the door at any moment.
When life intervenes, we spend less time than we should with each other. Nerves fray. The situation escalates until someone makes a move.
As usual, my pets were ahead of me. Before I could place the ad, they staged an intervention.
They demanded my presence downstairs at 5:45 a.m. My dog danced that cute ballet dance she does every morning. “I’m so glad to see you. How about a pee and some food?” I growled at her. She slunk off to her bed.
The birds twisted my ears with their version of the dawn chorus. (Think the sound of a thousand rusty gates swinging.) Their heckles broke the sound barrier, necessitating closing the windows, shutting off the flow of cool air.
I got hot and I don’t mean just the air temperature. My dog is a sweetie, anxious to please, but anxious in general when she doesn’t get enough exercise. The birds don’t give a rip about my ability to write in peace and quiet. They began ripping my ear drums this morning. I considered the headline on KGW.com, “Pet columnist strangles pets….” Not a good role model for my readers.
Once in awhile, each of us who take care of pets must reexamine how we’re doing—especially those of us who dispense pet advice for a living.
Nick, my Senegal parrot shouted in his unnaturally shrill mechanical voice, “Pet writer, heal yourself! Check out Chapter 6 in your own darn book.”
So I did. I opened “Conures,” my book on parrots, and to the section “Solving Behavior Problems.”
“It may be difficult to see, but the root of … behavior problems is almost always the … human companion. Giving your … attention each day will help prevent behavior problems from developing.”
The chapter lays out strategies for keeping your parrot happy. Onyx placed a well-manicured forepaw on page 89 and cocked her head as if to say, “Are you doing these things?” She doesn’t talk, but then she doesn’t need to.
Nick the Senegal screeches, “No. No. No.” The African Gray, his feathers fluffed, looks inscrutable and irritated. Pili the Cockatiel bleats in her incessant way that makes me want to end my life.
“Okay, okay. We’ll go back to the regular schedule.” I opened my daybook and scheduled the dog walks (even ten minutes, twice a day for a dog that has access to a back yard will help). I resolved to get each bird into the outdoor cage for an hour of breeze and nature watching each day. I scheduled the time to chop my special bird salad mix once a week. I added ten minutes to bathe the birds each afternoon.
This is the basic stuff pet caretakers need to do. Honestly, an hour a day for four animals is not too much to ask. I can give the time five minutes here and ten minutes there, between other commitments during the day.
Sometimes it takes the intervention of the resident pets to rein us in. “Good work, boys.” Call off the ads. Call off the lurid “pet writer goes crazy headlines.” I’m going back to the basics.
If you need the basic “regain control” list because your pets are driving you crazy, sign up for my free e-newsletter. If you have a tip to turn around pet overload please share by posting a comment.
