A TRIBUTE TO BONGO
MARIE
by Sally Blanchard
A Significant Part of
My Life
Anyone who knows my writings and me also knows of my African Grey, Bongo
Marie. She was an important part of my life for almost a quarter of a
century. The lessons she taught me and the stories I have left from her
life with me have been a significant part of the Pet Bird Report and my
new Companion Parrot Handbook, which is only fitting. I have written
something about her and her antics in almost every issue and my
Companion Parrot Handbook is dedicated to her.
I had no idea how old
Bongo Marie was when she first came to live with me. I knew she was an
adult, perhaps even an older, bird. When I first brought her home, she
had a massive, chronic respiratory infection and my veterinarian was
surprised we managed to restore her health.
However, she did regain her
health, and graced my home for almost 25 years with her undaunted spirit
and the peculiar viewpoint that only an African Grey can bring to life.
I will never fail to smile when I remember how she would greet visitors
with the question, "Where’s your poodle?" or the more perplexing "Who do
you are?" She was probably responsible for more of my smiles and
laughter than any other creature on earth.
Failing
Health
In the last few years, it became obvious that, even with excellent care
and veterinary support, her health was failing. Bongo Marie was a very
old bird. In January 1999, the quality of her life diminished to the
point where I had to make one of the most difficult decisions of my
life. With the gentle urging and support of friends and my avian
veterinarian, Bongo Marie was euthanized.
Although it left a tremendous
hole in my existence, I feel fortunate to have had her with me for as
long as I did. Everyone who met Bongo Marie knew what a special bird she
was — mostly because she was so full of life and full of herself.
She observed and commented on every aspect of my life on a daily basis.
I miss her very much, particularly her larger-than-life attitude and
sense of humor. The quiet in my house after her passing was deafening.
When Bongo first came to live with me,
African Greys were rarely seen in the
Midwest and friends of mine had purchased her at a bird club auction.
The store that donated her said that she was a young bird, but this
obviously was not true. Her eyes were yellow and her feet were rough and
scaly — a sign of an older parrot. She was also sick with a chronic,
life-threatening respiratory infection. She had obviously been sick for
some time as there were grooves in her beak from constant nasal
discharge and one nare was misshapen.
My friends purchased her as a
rescue but since they were going to be traveling the next week, she
ended up coming to stay with me. At the time, I was fairly new to
parrots. I had a wild-caught double yellow head that I was having little
success in taming.
A Terrified
Parrot
My friends called the grey Bongo. She was totally wild and frightened by
anything I did. All I had to do was make direct eye contact with her and
she would throw herself off of her perch. She landed on her back and
kicked and shrieked in fear. I put towels under the paper in her cage to
cushion her falls.
The scream was more of a loud growl — the classic
African grey growl. I heard that growl from many other greys during the
years I worked with taming wild-caught parrots. Although I have heard
this piercing sound from a few domestically-raised greys, most people
who have not worked with imported greys are probably not familiar with
the sound. It is a chilling sound because, even though my intent was
nurturing, I knew the birds who were making it thought they were at
death’s door.
There were no competent avian veterinarians where I lived
— only a vet who claimed he treated birds and gave his clients the same
bottle of pink medicine for every ailment. So I took Bongo to my dog
veterinarian because I always trusted him to do the right thing. Since
he knew very little about parrots, he called around the country until he
found someone who did. Following the advice of a real bird vet in
California, he prescribed antibiotics.
Twice a day I would have to
capture Bongo to medicate her. This was very stressful for her (and me)
and after a few days I got an idea. She ate almost nothing but sunflower
seed but she loved grapes. With my veterinarian’s blessing, I used a
hypodermic syringe to inject the medicine into her grapes. I increased
the dosage a bit since I knew she wasted a portion of every grape. (I am
not necessarily recommending this method of medicating birds since I do
not know if the juice from the grape challenges the effectiveness of
various medications. It is always best to check with your veterinarian.)
It seemed that at least some of her terror was based on the fact that
she did not feel well because as her health improved, she seemed less
and less afraid of activity in her cage area. The first lesson Bongo
Marie taught me was one of patience. We were obviously in no hurry to
reach some yet unidentified point in our lives together.
Each week I saw
a little more progress as I learned to approach her in less-threatening
ways. One of the first signs of her gradually increasing trust was when
she stayed on her perch when I walked in the room. Then a few weeks
later, she actually leaned towards me as if she wanted to be in my life.
Shortly after this milestone in her recovery, Bongo Marie started
talking. Her first word was a plaintive "Hewwo" one morning when I
walked by her cage.
Within a few more months, she learned to trust me
enough so that I could handle her and eventually I could hug her and
even raspberry her belly. Once she started talking, she learned almost
anything she heard. Sometimes she only needed to hear something once if
it was said with enough enthusiasm. This was often regrettable since
many of the words stated with great enthusiasm are those that you don’t
want said in polite company. Bongo had no discretionary ability when it
came to the times she should not utter her expletives — or perhaps the
truth was, she knew just the right time to say them for maximum impact.
She had a way of shortening and combining expressions that seemed to
show a certain amount of eccentric genius on her part. Just how do you
answer the question, "Who do you are?" Bongo also clearly associated
certain words and expressions with specific people.
If someone greeted
her in a consistent manner with the same words, she would associate
those words with that person and use them as a greeting each time she
saw them. Friends of mine often took advantage of that by greeting her
with absurd statements like "Where’s your tail?" said with a significant
Kansas drawl. If the wrong person said words that "belonged" to someone
else, Bongo clearly knew and would not respond in a positive manner,
often making one of her smart-mouth remarks.
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What Is This
Human/Parrot Bond?
Recently I was interviewed for a book being published about the
relationship people have with their pets. It was clear to me that the
writer I talked to could not understand the bond people develop with
parrots. She had been around cats and dogs but had never been around
parrots and thought of them only for their decorative value.
I told a
few of my favorite Bongo Marie stories to prove the point that parrots
are sentient and very empathic with the people in their lives. The
interviewer seemed amazed as she began to understand how significant the
human/parrot bond could be.
I talked about the loss I feel every time I
come home after running errands. I love to be greeted by wiggling,
waggling dogs, but there was nothing quite like the enthusiastic
greeting Bongo Marie gave me, "Good to see you!" This was no rote
greeting, it was always clear that she was happy to see me.
Occasionally
she would say something else. One time I walked in and she exclaimed,
"The cat’s bad!" I always put my mammalian companions in the back of the
house when I leave and somehow I overlooked my cat Nimbus who was asleep
on the couch when I returned. It seemed to be much more important for
Bongo Marie to let me know about Nimbus than to greet me.
Bongo Marie
thrived on ambient attention. She was happiest when several people were
in her living room interacting with her and each other. She
always made herself part of the conversation. I also thrived on her
ambient attention. If I was sitting in the living room reading or
watching television, she kept me amused with her constant comments. It
is this aspect of her that I miss the most.
A New Grey
In My Life
The following is a paragraph from my article in PBR Issue #43:
What Makes Greys Great?" I wrote this the November before Bongo
Marie’s death. "...but it would be a difficult choice for me if I had to
choose only one parrot to share the rest of my life with. People ask me
this question all the time and it is kind of a silly question ... sort
of like the question, "If you were stranded on a deserted island with
only one person who would you want that person to be?" But if I was
forced at gunpoint and/or my life was threatened, I would have to choose
an African Grey ... please don’t tell my caique, Spike, this. It doesn’t mean I love
him less. It probably means I would like a little meaningful
conversation on that deserted island if I only had one parrot."
I have
often stated that I can not imagine my life without an African grey in
it. Several weeks after Bongo Marie’s death, Julie Murad of the Gabriel
Foundation called to express her condolences and tell me, if I was
ready, she had a marvelous young African Grey who needed a new home. He
had been through at least three homes because he had supposedly become a
vicious biter. Julie has quoted me many times as saying "biting is the
easiest behavioral problem to solve," so she knew I would be up to the
challenge. I know I will never be able to replace Bongo Marie but there
is an incredible coincidence —
the new Grey’s name is Bongo. (For more stories about Bongo Marie,
see The World According to Bongo Marie in
PBR
Issue #36 and the
Fun Page. More
about Sally and her flock:
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