Growing up as an only child I had to find my playmates/companions in many forms. Most of the time I spent with my fur and feathered friends and I would speak to them and I would pretend they spoke back to me. I was born with a sense of humor that would not quit and many times over the years it has gotten me into trouble, but it has also kept me alive. During my years of growing up and older I found myself talking to not only the animals and birds, but my plants. One time when I was pruning one of my jasmine plants I kept telling it I hoped I was not hurting it when I cut the branches but that when it was all finished they would be beautiful and feel so much better.
After I caught myself talking to the plants I really wondered if I was loosing my mind but I then thought back and realized that I am still an only child and have not changed in all these years. I keep telling myself I am just sensitive and love my plants and animals and birds as I love my human family. I also began keeping a journal off and on for many years During the years of writing in my journal I would write stories pretending I was someone or something other than me. I think that is where my sense of humor shows up. I found some of those stories while cleaning up my computer files and decided to share them.
These I wrote as Barney, my one Jack Russell Terrier who was my companion for 9 years during some of the most difficult years of my life. I have always believed that writing about things that make you laugh or happy help save your sanity when you think there is no end to life's miseries.
The first one is about Barney arriving at Laurel Run Bird Farm, my home and business. He was a puppy and such a funny little dog, but extremely smart and protective.
THE FORPUS FARM FEROCIOUS ONE
By Barney
My name is Breezewood's Barney, most of the people here call me Barney, Mom (JB) calls me Barn Dog, my nice neighbor calls me Mr. Barney, but I don't care what you call me as long as you just call me. I love attention and get lots of it here. I was born in Pennsylvania on September 24, 1997. My Dad's name was Breezewood's Elvis ( a black and white Rough coated Jack Russell Terrier) and my Mom's name was Glenhaven's Zania (a Brown and White Smooth coated Jack Russell Terrier). Let me tell you, I do not look like a Jack Russell Terrier. I look like a mix of something, I am a 30 pound tri-colored Jack Russell, half rough, half smooth coat. But those who know me love me.
When I first came here I was a tiny puppy dog, and not too well behaved. Mom (JB) had a really nice lady come here to the farm for a lot of weeks and teach me how to behave like a gentleman dog. I am really a nice, intelligent, well mannered, loveable, young man dog now. At least I think so.
My job here at the farm is to protect Mom (JB) and my family of feathered friends.
I do such a good job that Mom (JB) makes me stay in my crate when customers come inside to pick up their new babies. I don't think she trusts me, but unless someone didn't smell right, I don't think I would harm anyone…I don't think????
I also make sure all the birds are in or on their cages at all times. Sometimes when my friend, Tweeter, The Farm Alarm, gets excited she falls on the floor and I must run and tell Mom (JB) to pick her up. She has a bad leg and cannot get back up to her cage when she falls on the floor. She just sits there and waits for me to get Mom (JB).
The job I really like is writing stories. I may write anything I want as long as I don't tell any stories that aren't true.
The end.
The next story is about Tweeter, Barney's favorite of all of the birds at Laurel Run Bird Farm.
THE FARM ALARM
by
BARNEY
In the Spring of 1996, Tweeter pipped her way out of an egg in the Exotabator at Laurel Run Bird Farm. She is a Sun Conure from parents ( George and Gracie) who had the nasty habit of destroying eggs soon after they were laid. JB would pull the eggs and replace them with fake eggs and place them in the incubator. Tweeter's hatch date arrived and there was very little pipping activity. JB was really concerned. It took Tweeter much too long to pip her way out of her shell. When she finally arrived, she was very tiny and weak and her one leg was turned backwards. As soon as JB was sure her critical period was over, and she was sure to survive her stressful beginning, she packed her up and took her to the Avian Vet for his opinion. They both felt at that time they should start to move the leg back to the correct position. This went on for weeks. One time the vet put a brace on her hip when she got bigger and nothing seemed to help. The vet then told JB he felt a ligament was damaged during her hatching. There was nothing more they could do.
As Tweeter grew, she became more beautiful than all her other siblings. I doubt if she knows she is disabled. JB kept Tweeter and her brother Timmy and they were to live here with us as pets.
Today, Tweeter has the place of honor on the Sun Porch. She is seldom in her cage, and never tries to fly. I think she knows her wings are clipped and she would just fall on the floor. She just hangs around and sometimes she hangs on the cage door by her foot and grabs at my tail when I walk by. One time she missed my tail and fell down. I went and got JB so she could help her get back up on her cage. I knew better than to mess with Tweeter. She has a big black beak that could hurt me.
There is a big rocking chair beside her cage and if someone sits on the chair, she comes down the cage and picks at the arm of the person until they talk to her. She doesn't bite, just pulls at their sleeve. She loves attention. She also gives lots of kisses.
She does one thing I am not allowed to do and that is, drink orange juice out of JB's glass. I am not sure I understand why she can do it and why I can't?????
She also helps me protect the farm. She screams a really loud scream when someone comes in the circle drive and there is no "turning her off" like you would any other alarm. Many times when I am taking a "doggie" nap, I hear her leave out a scream and being the watch dog that I am, I must go and check it out myself and then, if necessary, I must bark. Well, sometimes I just bark for fun. This is kind of a game we play and JB gets really upset at us for teasing her. She comes running to see who is there and it is just me and Tweeter.
I don't want to hurt any of the other bird's feelings, but I think Tweeter is my favorite. I call her the Farm Alarm.
The end.
Moving on to more of Barney's Bird Farm Fun.
OUR ODD COUPLE
By
Barney
I know JB has Senior Moments, but being a relatively young dog, I don't think I would be subject to them just yet….but this morning I thought I had one.
The bird room is one of my favorite places to sniff around because all my birdie buddies throw out some of their goodies and I, being the hoggy dog I am, eat anything that tastes o.k. I usually make several trips out there during the day, especially in the morning because that is when most of the treats I get are freshly thrown. This morning I did a sniffy trip and heard Joey, the one lovebird making lots of noise. He is not really too noisy unless he is upset…I checked and Joey was sitting on top of his cage flapping his wings and making all sorts of unhappy sounds. He obviously was trying to tell JB that his partner, Sage, another male lovebird was not in or on his cage. I did a check of the floor to be sure I was safe from any biting beaks, and no Sage. I went into the kitchen and checked it out and nothing. JB was busy working at the counter. I decided I needed to call her attention to the fact we were in the one bird missing mode. It did not take her but a second to start to check on what was happening.
I thought it best for me to stay out of her way and then I heard her say," what are you doing in there?" ….I just had to look. There he was, Sage and Tweeter sitting on Tweeter's feed dish both having breakfast. They have, in the past, played together, but Sage would never try and go into her cage. They looked so happy and content picking and eating their food, but that came to an immediate end when JB insisted Sage returned to his cage immediately.
No matter how many times JB told Sage to come out, he just ignored her. When JB talks, we are to listen, but Sage turned a deaf ear and then he hid behind one of Tweeter's big toys and you could hardly see him. When JB found him she reached right in, grabbed him and put him back in his cage. Sage was so surprised he didn't even protest.
She moved so fast and furious that Joey went flying off his cage, knowing he was next to be grabbed. I went after him. That is when I heard NO BARNEY….and I was just about to get a good grab on Joey's tail, but instead, I turned and ran into the kitchen…Joey looked up and there she was…and there he went. He was in his cage in seconds, but not without a small fight because I heard JB say a few choice words after she said "OUCH". I know Joey is sorry he bit her because that did not make her very happy and when she is unhappy, we all wait for the explosion. It never came, instead, things got really quiet for a while and then JB went back to Tweeter and started to explain why she may not have male visitors. Evidentially, Tweeter is at the age when she could be having babies, and JB is afraid Joey, who is of age also, may just decide to make that happen.
I heard JB asking someone on the telephone if Lovebirds will breed with Conures…but I could not hear what the person said so I guess I will never know the answer to that question. Which is o.k. because I don't understand that bird talk anyway.
Tweeter and Sage do make an odd couple. Tweeter is so much bigger than Sage, but they are both beautiful birds…… if you like birds.
Footnote to the above story.
Sage, the lovebird lived to be 19 years old and everyday of his life he spent with Tweeter. When he died I honestly think Tweeter missed him to the point where she began to change her attitude and eating habits. She died about a year later at the age of 22. These two birds were inseparatable, yet at night Sage knew he had to sleep in his own cage because Tweeter slept on the bottom of her cage. Unable to perch due to her leg problem she was a bottom sleeper and Sage being normal was a percher so at bed time Sage would go in his cage which was next to Tweeters and sleep. First thing in the morning, he was out again and over to her cage for the rest of the day.
I never bred Tweeter because I was never able to find out why that leg was the way it was. None of her siblings ever had a leg problem but I did not want to take any chances. I feel sure it was being in the egg too long at birth.
Gunny, also known as The Big Gun, the Double Yellow-Headed Amazon
By
Barney
There are a lot of birds around here….almost half of all the rooms in the house have birds in them. It really is fun when they are all behaving and making their bird sounds. Frankie the Canary is the loudest but he sings a really pretty song. Then there is Gunny….the Amazon,
Who not only can't carry a tune but he can't remember the words and the words he does remember he doesn't pronounce correctly. For example, he sings Happy "Burfday" to you. Now I ask you…then there is his favorite Mary had a little…Mary had a little….little what…the whole song is Mary had a little. I wish he would learn the rest of it.
Gunny is the biggest and the oldest bird JB has here at the farm. He more or less just hangs out on the top of his cage talking, mumbling, making funny sounds and singing. There was a time he would never leave that cage. He has now started to change his habits. He must be getting brave in his old age of 12.
My crate is in the same room that Gunny lives in. I like it in that room because the babies that are for sale are in there and I can watch them playing and learning to fly in the flight cages. But he has really started to irritate me. Just as I am getting all cozy and relaxed and am half dozing off,
in my crate with the door open , Gunny gets down off his cage and waddles like a duck over to my crate and stands in front of me and flaps his wings and makes clucking noises. Me, being the well-behaved coward I am, I just stay inside that crate and wait to see if he is coming in with me. So far I have not had to deal with that ever happening…JB usually is within sight and hearing that cackling noise, she rescues me from that nasty bird. I wonder if he thinks I am a bird?
The other day I was in the breeding room with JB checking for mice and I was getting under her feet and she kept bumping into me so she ran me into the house with the broom. I hate that broom and I turn and ran really fast through the mudroom and up the two steps into the room where the babies are and WHAM, BANG, AAK. When I hit the top step I hit something and it moved and I kept going until I got in my crate. When I looked to see what I had bumped into, there was JB talking to Gunny. He was standing on the top step and when I went running past him I knocked him on his tail feathers. He was really angry with me and JB stood there laughing because the expression on that birds face was really funny. He was looking straight at me and I think I could read his mind….but, I can't repeat what I think he was thinking. He climbed up on his cage and stared at me for the rest of the morning.
When The Big Gun is in a good mood and I feel like playing, JB sits on the floor with Gunny on one side and me on the other (I don't think she trusts either of us at times). She takes one of my tennis balls and rolls it to Gunny and he pushes it over to me and I push it back to him. It is fun but his attention span is not as long as mine, so the game only lasts a few minutes. I would rather play with JB alone, but this seems to make her happy when we behave and play together.
There is one more thing that he does that really gets my goat. JB and I have our time together after she feeds the babies before dinner. We sit in the living room, relax and have a drink and a snack. Gunny and the other pet birds get a cracker. This is my favorite time. But, Gunny usually eats fast and then he starts yelling, "Jack" "Jack" "What are you doin?" . The only way JB can shut him up is to put him in his cage, kiss him good night and close the blinds. When
that is done, you can hear him yawning and settling down. That is when I like him best, when he is asleep.
The end of this one.
This is the last bird story Barney wrote. It is my favorite because it is about my sweet babies. The baby Parrotlets are so tiny and funny
The Dirty Dozen
By Barney
It was really hectic here at the Farm this Spring. Breeding season was nearly over with the exception of two nest boxes of Pacific Parrotlets that each contained 6 eggs. On June 5th,the day our Nana, (JB's Mother) died, the eggs started to hatch. All the eggs were fertile and all twelve babies hatched.
JB had the brooder set up and ready. When the babies eyes started to open, between 10 to 14 days old, she removed them, two at a time, from the nest. A very small band was put on each baby bird (in NJ all Parrotlets must have bands).
All but the last two chicks were removed from the nests. One was ten days old and the other, a very tiny one (the last to be hatched). JB was afraid to leave the little one alone in the nest because the parents may not feed him, so he got pulled early along with the 10 day old chick from that clutch.
She tried to keep the 6 clutch mates together so she put 6 chicks in each crock in the brooder. That lasted a short time and they started to switch places. They would jump out of the crock they were to live in and crawl in the other. They were always switching places so she gave up. They all wanted to be together in the brooder and huddle on one pile so, that is what they did.
Feeding was difficult because you must to be sure everyone eats the proper amount of formula and everyone ate a different amount. At first when they were small, there was no problem, she would feed them and move them to another place in the same basket. But as they got older they were so active that did not work. Finally, all 12 chicks were put in a big flat sewing basket and fed, one at a time, moving them into a small fish tank when they were done eating. This was the only way to be sure not to miss one or feed one twice.
They were all strong and healthy babies (two blues and 10 greens) but they were very sloppy eaters. At the end of each feeding everyone and everything was full of formula and one day JB started to call them the "Dirty Dozen". They were such a mess when they were finished eating she would take them one by one and wash their faces before they were put back in the brooder.
The little guy with no feathers was always the first in line to be fed and he would crawl up over top of the other 11 to get to the syringe and scream at the top of his little lungs until she fed him.
The other 11 chicks had feathers and Rover had none. JB tried separating him and putting him alone in the same water brooder, but in his own nest closer to the warm water so he would not get pushed aside and get cold. That didn't work, the minute he was awake, he would crawl out and go cuddle with the others. She was so frustrated with him she just gave up and left him do what he wanted. She said he was like the old "Land Rovers". They went up over top of everything like tanks. So, she named him Rover.
After about 8 weeks all of the Dirty Dozen had been sold and had gone to their new homes.
You could see the relief on JB's face when the last one left. I know she hates to give up her babies, but she also told me she would not miss the mess this twelve made.
Oh, I forgot to tell you, Rover did not leave…….JB could not part with him…she is such a softy……he is going to live here with us……..but, that is another story. The end for now.
Rover all grown up!
This is the Bird Story Collection from Barney, the Barndog. It was fun writing them and hopefully the will bring some smiles to the people who read them. The stories are all true, the characters are all true and no, they have not been published. The were written for fun and fun alone. I am sharing them with love to all my friends who love birds as much as I do. Enjoy!
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