No Longer Nailed by My Parrot

Have you ever stopped to wonder about the origin of some words or  phrases? I got thinking about the word "nailed" on an April weekend when I attended a parrot behavior workshop presented by Dr. Susan Friedman and Barbara Heidenreich. On  Saturday during one of her segments, Barbara, when explaining why she was approaching one of the parrots the way she was, said she didn't want to get "nailed". Nailed. Can't you just picture some would-be carpenter long ago, accidentally hammering a nail through a finger? You can hear the yowl of pain, right? And if you've ever been bitten by a parrot, you know just what getting "nailed" felt like. I mean, you really couldn't find a better description for the experience, could you?

Now, in almost any conversation, say, with a neighbor for example, the word "nailed" could refer to something like getting "nailed" by the police for speeding, or a gymnast "nailing" her landing. But last Saturday, at that parrot workshop, at that particular time and in the presence of those fifty-odd people, I'd bet that not one person wondered about the  meaning of "nailed". That group of parrot caregivers, breeders, veterinarians and trainers knew that Barbara wasn't talking about a chick's investigative beaking or a bird's use of the beak to ensure stable footing. Every single person knew that "nailed" meant a human body part getting within reach of a parrot's body part...one specific body part, with the results being pain, broken skin, and oozing red stuff. And that's the story of my relationship with Murray.

Murray is a Senegal parrot of unknown age who joined our flock four years ago. He's a beautiful little bird, acrobatic and entertaining with a variety of sounds and whistles mimicking various appliances, alarms and other birds in the house. For the first three years, during almost every attempt to interact with him, he "nailed" me. We know nothing of his history, behavioural or otherwise. And never having had a Senegal parrot before, I turned to various bird acquaintances. Several told me that Senegals are like that, unpredictably nippy and easily startled.

I did know almost immediately that I was having difficulty reading Murray's body language. I could see his eyes pinning from time to time; I knew only that something was of interest to him. I knew that when he fluffed all of his feathers, opened his wings a little and dropped his head a bit that something was going to receive some vigorous attention from him. And I knew that when I put my hand out and asked if he'd like to step up, that raised foot and lean toward me, said yes. But every time he "nailed" me it came as a surprise. It was fast, sudden and painful. And the little bugger tended to hang on...and grind. I started speculating about possible reasons for this behaviour: He still didn't know me well enough to predict my behaviour; I moved too fast; he's easily startled; he'd had enough of whatever; he enjoyed seeing me jump and howl...and so on. Eventually, I stopped trying to touch him in any way and trained him to step up to a perch which became his mode of transportation.

Enter Phung Luu, one of three presenters at our 2008 workshop, Understanding Behavior: Parrots, people and Other Pets. Phung is a soft-spoken, quiet and professional trainer who is fascinating to watch in action. I couldn't help but wonder what Phung would make of Murray's behavior. During one of the breaks, I had occasion to chat with Phung. I described my difficulties with Murray and how I didn't understand why he was biting. Phung asked. "What is Murray doing just before he bites?" Suddenly I was acutely embarrassed and thankfully my answer stuck in my throat. I had nearly blurted out, "I don't know. I'm never looking at him when he bites." Talk about a light bulb moment! I did tell Phung Luu what I had suddenly realized. After all he was waiting for an answer. He just smiled.

Now, I'd be lying if I told you I never again got nailed by Murray. Old habits are hard to break. However, every morning, he steps up to my hand like a perfect little gentleman and gets hugs and scritches before I carry him to the table to join me for breakfast. He has a mug that he loves to play with during these times. Sometimes he stops long enough to come to me for a scritch or two. I trust him enough to take my eyes off him for very short periods of time, although he still travels back to his cage on the handheld perch . And I've not been nailed, by him, for a long time. We have successfully reworked our relationship.

Okay, why did I tell you this? I told you this to emphasize what all newbies to applied behaviour analysis know, that observation is a critical skill in effecting behaviour change. You don't necessarily see when you look. But you must look in order to see.

 

 

Published in Good Bird Magazine Fall 2009