Every male lovebird I’ve ever had has made it unavoidably obvious why they are called lovebirds. Every bird but Peep. When Peep was a baby, Oliver’s first activity every morning was to greet his boing, his humpy toy. Peep would try, unsuccessfully, to get his attention. He couldn’t figure out what Oliver was doing. I caught his confusion on film one morning, just as Oliver succeeded in his morning ritual. This spring Peep started making the little clicking noises I know so well. Then he added the head scratching movements while dancing around. Then I noticed a swelling on his little featherless bottom and took him to the vet for fear he was getting an infection. The vet decided it was testosterone! His clicking, scratching, regurgitating, and dancing has been getting increasingly energetic but he could never get “a grip”. Until today. Bless his heart…he finally got it together. He clearly liked it because he IMMEDIATELY did it again. And AGAIN! None of my other birds have ever managed 3 “events” in a row. There’s no smoking allowed in the building so he just went straight to sleep. He’ll always be my Baby Peep but I guess he’s all grown up now.
Last edited:
