ISSN #1492-8132
Issue Number 9
copyright © 2000
all rights reserved
no reprints without permission

Born in Athens, in Greece, but raised in the US, Charlie comes by his love for birds naturally - his family has a long-standing tradition of keeping and working with birds.

Charlie keeps and breeds carduelan finches, canaries, and some hybrids - a popular practice in Europe, used to produce wonderful songbirds, but not seen much these days in North America - particularly since success requires skill, attention, and a flexible attitude.

The whole site is great, but if you really want an eye-opener, check out the photo album - make sure you look at the large versions of all the pics to see them in their full glory!

If you like songbirds, then this site is a must-see!

Indications so far lead researchers to conclude that it seems important for accomplished song birds to start practicing early in life, in much in the same way human virtuosos start playing an instrument or singing.

There are indications that this may be true of other species as well, up to and including humans.

Maybe we all need to make sure that we, as well as our birds, get enough sleep?

"My canaries have plastic perches in their cage. I would like to give them natural perches but can`t find any in the local pet shops. I am wondering if it is okay to use some branches from our lemon tree?"

My answer is;

 Hello! Most citrus trees are non-toxic, and can be considered for use as natural perches for your birds, as long as the tree is not standing within 50 feet or closer to a road, and if you are sure it has not had much if any fertilizer or pesticide used on it in the last few years.

 Strip off all the leaves and scrub the branches really well with soap and water and a good, stiff-fibred brush, then rinse, before you bring them into the house. Stand them somewhere out of direct sunlight to let them dry out for a couple of days before you cut them to length and put them in the cage."

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Welcome to Robirda's Companion Birds e-zine

For breeder or pet bird owners who care.

Hello! Welcome to Flock Talk's special Christmas issue - I hope you like what you see! If you have comments, criticisms, or stories to share, please send them to Robirda

Feature Article

In keeping with the Christmas tradition in these parts, here is a little story for you, comprised of roughly equal parts of once-was, what-if, and might-have-been. I hope you enjoy it! I call it...

by R C 'Robirda' McDonald

It was a spectacular evening; the sky was painted with shades of brilliance and glory. Yet Melody felt nothing but a dark, dull pain. Not in her body, this pain, but in her mind - home by Hallowe'en, he had told her - yet here it was almost December, and not a word from him.

"I will write if I can," he had said, and she had believed him. And he had, at first. But the steady stream of letters had begun to dwindle, and fade; and now, it was almost two months since his last note. Not that she had learned much from it!

"Excited - busy - can't write much, no time, our project may be delayed, will write as soon as I can! Much love", it had said, and nothing more.

A small, soft thud from the window interrupted her musings, and she blinked, startled. What on earth...? Then her attention was caught by a ginger tom, stealthily stalking something at the foot of that very window.

"Oh no you don't!" she cried, racing out through the porch onto the grass. Startled, the tomcat leapt away, and she saw a small green-and-yellow feathered body laying below the window on the mulch which covered her flower-beds for the winter.

"Oh, I hope you haven't broken your neck!", she murmered, "What were you doing, trying to fly through that window, anyways?"

She gently scooped the tiny body into her hand, and the small head lifted a little. She felt a burst of relief, and placed it gently in the palm of her hand, where it sat quietly, blinking at her.

It was a canary. She knew, because her grandmother had used to raise them. One of her first memories was the thrill of being allowed to help care for her grandmother's precious, prized birds - she had missed them, and had always meant to get one or two, one day. Yet somehow she had never gotten around to it.

It seemed quite comfortable, sitting in her hand, and had not adopted that half-frozen stance of terror or shock which she had seen in her grandmother's birds, when a neighbour's cat had broken into the aviary; it blinked calmly at her, then looked up into her face and cheeped inquiringly.

"How tame you are!", she said wonderingly, "Somebody must be missing you dreadfully, I wonder how they lost you? You can't have been lost for too long, with the weather having been so cold and wet lately... whatever am I going to do with you? We have to find out where you came from, I suppose!"

As she spoke, she began to quietly move towards the house, half-afraid that it would startle, and leap for the sky.

But it seemed quite comfortable where it was, and showed no sign of startlement at all, even when she gently tugged open the door - in fact, all it did was snuggle down a little more closely into her hand. Enjoying the warmth, she supposed, marveling at the tiny pool of echoed warmth in her palm.

"You must have been very cold, out there, if you were used to living in a house," she mused aloud, looking down at her tiny passenger.

"Is that why you were trying to fly in through my window? The sunset must have been reflecting off the window - did you think that it was a lamp, and that I was standing beside it? Whatever your reason, tame like you are, you must have thought you were trying to find your way home, eh, little fellow? What shall I call you?"

The bird looked up at her, and cheeped again, as if in answer, and snuggled deeper into her hand.

"I think I will call you Comfort", she decided. "You have brought me some already, and it is apparent that you like yours!", and she grinned down at her hand. "I suppose I can't go on calling you an 'it', either, shall we assume for the moment that you are a 'he'?"

Her only answer was a nibble on her fingernail.

"Oh, of course, how silly of me," she said, "you must be very hungry - shall we go see if we can find you something to eat? I suppose I shall have to find you somewhere to stay, until we can find out where you came from, you certainly can't stay day and night in my hand, even if you do seem to like it there! Hmmmm..." and her voice trailed off, as she considered her available resources.

Still thinking, she moved slowly towards the kitchen, and gently eased Comfort onto the back of one of the wooden chairs. He seemed a little reluctant to move from the shelter of her palm, but cooperated, and sat quietly grasping the rim of the narrow wooden back of the chair, watching as she rummaged in the fridge.

Some days later Melody again stood beside the window, and found herself musing about her recent life. Things hadn't really changed all that much, except for Comfort; but what a comfort he had proven to be, in her loneliness!

One of her grandmother's spacious cages had been disinterred from the attic and moved to the position of honour in the living-room. The small door was always propped open, so Comfort was free to come and go, but somewhat to her surprise, she found he was rather a homebody; when he wasn't sitting on her shoulder or hand, he chose to spend most of his time inside his new cage.

An ad about a found canary had been run in several newspapers, but to her surprise, nobody had called. Not a single soul seemed to be looking for a lost tame canary, and she couldn't help but wonder why. How could anybody not miss a beautiful little creature like this?

Her own situation was no better. Although she tried not to think about it - worry helped no one - there had been no word at all. There were times when her whole world seemed comprised of nothing but darkness and threat, and she could find no logical reason for carrying on.

No reason, that is, but Comfort.

Although he had not yet sung, his cheerful presence and willingness to interact charmed, awed, and amazed her - and distracted her from her musings, in no small way. His eating habits made her laugh, and his baths generally ended up swamping the entire area around his cage, as well as the cage itself. His appetite for greenery seemed almost endless.

Thanks to his cheerful influence, she began to do a little better at shrugging off her doldrums, and soon realized that it was time to begin the preparations for Christmas. She adamantly refused to consider that this year she might spend it alone - it wouldn't happen, and that was that!

In the meantime there were cards and presents to make and send out, there were cakes to bake and store for curing, there were cookies and sweets of all manner to make, parcel, and package. Decorations and lights must be brought out and examined, fixed, renewed, or throw away, and new ones must be made or acquired.

All of this was cheerfully supervised by Comfort, but still he did not sing.

She worried about Comfort's reaction to the tree, at first, but although he was curious about it, he showed no signs of wanting to investigate directly, as Melody had feared. He kept his distance, but watched carefully as Melody decorated it, occasionally cheeping a short comment.

Days passed, and as Christmas drew nearer, it grew more and more difficult to ignore the dread which stayed firmly lodged under her breastbone, no matter how hard she tried to ignore it. Then finally, Christmas eve dawned - and along with the morning came a telegram!

"Keep the porch light burning, will be home for Christmas, with surprise" was all it said, but Oh! the curiosity that short sentence kindled! Its secret fire burned under her skin all that day, as Melody finished off a few final preparations.

Even Comfort seemed to have caught the excitement - he was more active than Melody had seen him yet, flying in and out of his cage, and cheeping constant little commentaries on all the activity.

It was near sunset, and Melody was almost done. She had forced a few small mouthfuls of food down for supper, but could manage no more than that. All there was to do now, was to turn on the porch light, and wait.

Comfort's cage was positioned next to her, in front of the window. He too turned to gaze at the lovely sunset colours. Side-by-side, they watched the multi-hued sky for a long peaceful moment - and then Comfort began to sing.

She had never before heard such beautiful sounds come from any creature, and felt as if she was being serenaded by choirs of angels. In her distraction, she forgot to watch the out-of-doors, and so the opening of the front door caught her completely by surprise.

"Hey, where's my welcoming committee?" came the gleeful bellow, then he picked her up and swung her around cheerfully as Melody barrelled into him headlong.

"Wait, look out, you're going to give your Christmas present a heart attack!" he said, and held out - a cage and a canary!

Melody looked at her husband, standing there with the one gift he had known she would always welcome, and began to laugh. Surely now their lives would be filled with comfort and joy, she thought, and hugged him gratefully, while behind her Comfort trilled his blessings to the world.

by R C 'Robirda' McDonald
December 24, 2000
Copyright © 2000

The next isssue will see us into the New Year - until then, may you, your loved ones, and your birds enjoy all the best!

R C 'Robirda' McDonald
December 24, 2000
Vancouver, BC, Canada