- Joined
- 11/24/12
- Messages
- 68
Hi. I'm back after a long break; it's been a crazy few years. During them, we renamed Gizmo, our Congo African Grey, to Willow. We did this after a lot of thought; we didn't want to confuse her, but the name Gizmo (which she'd gone by for about 2 years, since we got her on CraigsList) was becoming less and less "right" for her. My husband (who she adores) decided he wanted to call her Willow, so he talked with her about it one evening:
"Willow, Willow, your name is Willow", he told her, again and again. Then he said, slowly and carefully, "Willow is Gizmo. Gizmo is -"
"Willow", she interrupted. Almost as though she approved.
Wow, we thought. I guess that was that. From then on, she has answered to Willow. But more odd ... starting that night, she began calling my husband by name. She had never said his name before, but from then on, she'll call for him when he's in the other room, "Chuck...", and he'll answer, "Willow."
She calls both of the dogs and the cat by name, too. I don't get a name. She adores my husband, but I'm the enemy. It's okay. I've accepted it. We've come to a cautious truce: I keep myself out of reach, and we get along just fine.
She watches a lot of TV with us, and often surprises us with things she says or understands. One evening we were watching a program about people living in Alaska. Someone shot an elk, and Willow exclaimed in a shocked voice, "They shot it!" This is never something she has heard from us, since we're not hunters.
Sometimes I wonder if she's a little space alien spy in a bird suit.
One time we were watching TV and two adults had to restrain a little girl who was having a seizure. It was disturbing to watch; the little girl was so scared. Willow began crooning gently, encouragingly, "Good girl, good girl."
She watches TV and laughs at the right places, even when there is no audience laughter to cue her. I swear that she often knows what they're saying. If someone kisses on TV, she'll do a wolf whistle. And animals -- if there's a cat on TV or on my laptop (which I angle so she can see it), she meows. A dog, she barks. A tiny kitten, and she does her kitten mew (which is adorable). We can't watch documentaries with hawks, eagles, or owls, because she gets scared.
She likes our dogs, an 80-lb Shiloh shepherd and an 8-lb chihuahua. The dogs like her, too -- she tosses food down for them. It can be funny watching the dogs play, especially because of the size difference. The little guy (Bodi, sounds like Cody), will grab a toy and tease Maggie into chasing him, then he'll dart under the table or between the chair legs where she can't catch him, then try to circle around to nip her hind legs. It's hilarious, and gets even better when Willow gets into it -- she starts laughing her silly head off, cackling madly, and cheering them on, hollering "Maggie!! Come here, Maggie!! Bodi!" and barking like the dogs.
When we got the puppy, for his first week he was certain there was another dog in the other room. They'd bark at each other ... she never did it when he was in the room, though. Diabolical bird.
One evening, my husband spent a minute coaxing the cat to jump onto his lap. (She's a cat. She was perfectly capable of jumping up, she just wanted to be coaxed.) When the cat finally jumped up, Willow exclaimed, "Good girl, Chani!"
Occasionally she'll sneeze or cough. (Not a real sneeze or cough, but an imitation of me; I have allergies.) When she does, I ask her courteously, "Are you okay?" The other day, Chuck sneezed in the other room, and she called out to him, "Are you okay?" (Now mind you, I never get asked if I'm okay. I'm the other woman.) He also gets "I love you".
A lot of these things, we never hear her say again, but she says them once, in context, obviously not repetition, and clear as day. It's become obvious that she understands a lot more than she lets on. She's quiet, but she knows.
"Willow, Willow, your name is Willow", he told her, again and again. Then he said, slowly and carefully, "Willow is Gizmo. Gizmo is -"
"Willow", she interrupted. Almost as though she approved.
Wow, we thought. I guess that was that. From then on, she has answered to Willow. But more odd ... starting that night, she began calling my husband by name. She had never said his name before, but from then on, she'll call for him when he's in the other room, "Chuck...", and he'll answer, "Willow."
She calls both of the dogs and the cat by name, too. I don't get a name. She adores my husband, but I'm the enemy. It's okay. I've accepted it. We've come to a cautious truce: I keep myself out of reach, and we get along just fine.
She watches a lot of TV with us, and often surprises us with things she says or understands. One evening we were watching a program about people living in Alaska. Someone shot an elk, and Willow exclaimed in a shocked voice, "They shot it!" This is never something she has heard from us, since we're not hunters.
Sometimes I wonder if she's a little space alien spy in a bird suit.
One time we were watching TV and two adults had to restrain a little girl who was having a seizure. It was disturbing to watch; the little girl was so scared. Willow began crooning gently, encouragingly, "Good girl, good girl."
She watches TV and laughs at the right places, even when there is no audience laughter to cue her. I swear that she often knows what they're saying. If someone kisses on TV, she'll do a wolf whistle. And animals -- if there's a cat on TV or on my laptop (which I angle so she can see it), she meows. A dog, she barks. A tiny kitten, and she does her kitten mew (which is adorable). We can't watch documentaries with hawks, eagles, or owls, because she gets scared.
She likes our dogs, an 80-lb Shiloh shepherd and an 8-lb chihuahua. The dogs like her, too -- she tosses food down for them. It can be funny watching the dogs play, especially because of the size difference. The little guy (Bodi, sounds like Cody), will grab a toy and tease Maggie into chasing him, then he'll dart under the table or between the chair legs where she can't catch him, then try to circle around to nip her hind legs. It's hilarious, and gets even better when Willow gets into it -- she starts laughing her silly head off, cackling madly, and cheering them on, hollering "Maggie!! Come here, Maggie!! Bodi!" and barking like the dogs.
When we got the puppy, for his first week he was certain there was another dog in the other room. They'd bark at each other ... she never did it when he was in the room, though. Diabolical bird.
One evening, my husband spent a minute coaxing the cat to jump onto his lap. (She's a cat. She was perfectly capable of jumping up, she just wanted to be coaxed.) When the cat finally jumped up, Willow exclaimed, "Good girl, Chani!"
Occasionally she'll sneeze or cough. (Not a real sneeze or cough, but an imitation of me; I have allergies.) When she does, I ask her courteously, "Are you okay?" The other day, Chuck sneezed in the other room, and she called out to him, "Are you okay?" (Now mind you, I never get asked if I'm okay. I'm the other woman.) He also gets "I love you".
A lot of these things, we never hear her say again, but she says them once, in context, obviously not repetition, and clear as day. It's become obvious that she understands a lot more than she lets on. She's quiet, but she knows.
She sounds amazing 
. Sounds like Willow is very smart. 
) 
