We've always tried to do our absolute best for our bird, Kiki.
I carefully researched her species needs, the best foods (ingredients, combinations, ratios), got a brand new cage that was the biggest and best style I could afford, and spent a couple months making toys I imagined she'd like- essentially, "nesting."
Kiki had been living with us for a number of months, and had settled right in to our sometimes crazy lifestyle. (We travel with our jobs, so every couple of months we pack up and change locations. We also live in our rv, so the house stays the same, it's just the scenery outside that occasionally changes. And we all seem to like it that way!) Anyway, we had only been in our current location for a few weeks and were pretty settled in to the area when, one evening, as I was taking Kiki from her outside play cage back inside the house (as we had done a thousand times), something behind me scared her and she spread those beautiful little wings full of brand new flight feathers (because molting, of course!) and shot off into the very open space in front of our house.
Now, before I get the tongue lashing I'm sure I deserve, let me say that she had just finished molting her old, trimmed feathers, we had done the same procedure countless times before, and the hand that had been holding on to her over her wings had only just reached for the door to go inside. Trust me, I've beaten myself up for my mistakes more times than I care to recount..... But back to the story...
So she flies off in front, vears off to the right, gaining lots of altitude the whole time, and pops over the treetops, calling the whole way. We are surrounded by deep woods here, and are neighbors by an orchard on one side. So screaming and crying, my boyfriend and I take off into the woods in opposite directions, desperate to find this tiny green and yellow bird in a sea of green leaves and 80 foot tall trees.
We called and ran and climbed and jumped and listened and called some more until dark, when we knew, wherever she was, she was tucked in for the night. As we cleaned up our scratched legs and checked for ticks, we talked about tomorrow and how we would do everything we could to find her. Both her cages were now set up in the yard, in clear view and as enticing as could be, in the off chance she was close by and might find her way back in the morning. And with that, we succumbed to our grief and fell asleep as fast as we could, hoping to look out the window in the morning and see her little green and yellow butt hanging out of a food dish....
Morning came, but not after a string of vivid dreams, all different variations of looking for and, in some cases, finding Kiki. In the last one, it ended just as if managed to catch her and hold her to myself and I opened my eyes, only to look out the window at those two still empty cages.
We got up, and the house was horribly quiet. The morning routine was exponentially shorter than usual, what with no bowls to clean, veggies to chop, or papers to clear. And so we rose, dressed and left for work in near perfect silence. On the way in, we were stopped by some friends who had heard about her escape, and even though they were offering their condolences and telling us we'd find her, it was still a sad, tearful time.
We worked for the first half of the day, but come lunch time my boyfriend said enough was enough and requested the rest of the day off. So we packed a bag full of her favorite things, and got to work. We made flyers, called everywhere we could think of, and left word that she was missing with anyone who would listen. Everywhere we went, we were told "good luck," and "don't give up!"
Our next step was to retrace our steps from the night before. My boyfriend was almost positive he heard and saw her double back on that first flight, so off into the woods we went, bushwhacking through the brush, calling up into the trees, and trying not to sink into swamp. We came out on the other side into a cemetery, then into a local park, where we hung signs all over in case she made it that way in search of food, water, or people.
Like I said, we were going everywhere we could think of. After we made it back home, we hopped in the car and went into town to hang more posters. We hit the post office, grocery store, the local pet store, and went a bit further to the nearest vet clinic and animal shelter. It was getting late in the evening at that point (the walk in the woods alone took a few hours), and our last stop was going to be at the orchard next door, just to tell them what had happened and leave a flyer if possible.
When we arrived, we just happened to pull up next to the owners daughter, unbeknownst to us; we told her our story, and with a cheerful "sure, just follow me!," she led us right to the spot closest to home. She wished us luck, took a flyer, and left us to our bird finding business.
We hadn't been there much more than a few minutes, calling and listening, listening and calling, when a bird called back that I was SURE was her! I ran off in the direction I thought it was coming from, called again, and held still. I was sure that had been one of her calls, I was sure of it! I called her another time, but this time, no response. But I was so sure we might be close, I sat down, opened up my bag of toys and treats, and started playing with them just in case she was nearby watching. My boyfriend opted to keep walking the fence line while I waited, and I could hear him moving off into the distance, calling for Kiki. Maybe 10 minutes later, my phone rings, and it's him saying he wasn't sure, but he thinks he just heard her say, "Ready!"
I can't remember ever running so fast. I even left my bag of tricks! When I caught up with him, he was standing at the top of a little hill, looking into the woods in the other side of a 10 foot fence. The trees there were some of the tallest I'd seen in a long time, and as full and lush with leaves as they could possibly be. We called, "come here, keek!" again, and this time, it WAS her that answered back!!! Her eager little voice came through the trees proclaiming "Kiki! Come here! Ready!!" We couldn't see her yet, but I've never been so happy to hear that little voice.
She sounded so far off and high up, we had no way of knowing where she was. I ran back, grabbed my stuff and booked it back. We called and called, and as our excitement increased, we could hear her get more and more hyped up, too. It wasn't until I dropped one of her favorite treats in her metal bowl and rattled it around, though, that she finally got amped up enough to fly out and get her eyes on us (and vice versa). When she did, she made an arch out over us, over the orchard a little ways, then turned back and landed in one of those monstrously tall trees. She'd call to us, we'd call to her, and back and forth it would go until she got worked up enough again to try to fly, but every time she did, she wouldn't come down to us, just make a circle or two above us and then back into the tree. (My boyfriend even pulled out his ukelele and played for her: at home, she can't get to him fast enough when he has it, so we figured it was worth a shot!)
We went through this almost a dozen times, but always the sun was getting lower, the time she needed to rest was getting longer, and we were getting more anxious. Having caused a great deal of ruckus in otherwise human-less woods over the past two days, we had both heard and seen no less than two great horned owls in the area, and Nobody liked the idea of her having to spend another night out there. So as our daylight was dwindling, I took off towards home to grab the tallest ladder available, and help if I could find it, while my boyfriend stayed behind to try again.
It's funny that the spot she chose was so relatively close to our home, and yet it took soooo long to reach either by car or on foot. Between the woods, the fences, and the complete lack of clear ways, it took the same time to walk as it did to drive across the whole orchard, out to the main road, double back towards our home, and pull in. We were maybe less than a football fields length away from her, house to tree, and yet it was so difficult to reach! But I digress....
So I grabbed the ladder, tied it to the top of the vehicle, and as I left, I stopped to ask some friends for help. The look on their faces when I told them we'd found the bird is one I will never forget. Just imagine a person you know who has seen tech world and is generally hard to impress. Now picture that you've told them that you FOUND your 6 inch green bird, that she's way up in a tree, you need help holding the ladder while you try to get her down. Now try not to laugh as their jaws hit the ground and they stare at you, utterly dumbstruck. Fortunately, one of their wives popped out the door and said, "I'll go!" and hops in with you.
So off we go, into the sunset, and we're almost there when my phone rings. It's my boyfriend, telling me to forget the ladder because she just made one last attempt to fly down, and she came SO close, within feet of his outstretched hand, she was coming in for the landing when at the last minute she started to wobble then panicked and went back up into an even taller part of the tree, and hasn't said a word since. Ugh. again.
Sure enough, we pulled in to the spot at the orchard a moment later, and that's how it was. My poor boyfriend was heartbroken. (He told me later that night that after I'd left, he told Kiki that she had to come down because if she didn't, I'd be coming back to climb that tree and if anything happened to me, he wouldn't have the bird or me and he'd be all alone. So he used his command voice to get her to fly to him, and it had almost worked, but when she bailed at the last minute, just feet from him, he was just crushed.)
So now that the sun was down, and she was nestled inside a tight cluster of leaves, we could do nothing more than pack up our stuff and go back home. We were sad we couldn't get her, but there was a ray of hope in knowing where she was, and we vowed to be right back there before dawn the next morning to try again. So we went home, set our alarms for 4:30am, and went right to sleep.
It's amazing how fast 4:30am comes around, especially when you're as physically and emotionally drained as we were, but we made it back to that spot by the time the sun came up and she peaked out of those leaves.
It was true what we'd read, that they have one big flight first thing in the morning, but despite it all we were no where closer to getting her then than we had been the evening before. She just wouldn't fly down, which I now understand is a common problem with escaped birds. So we sat, stood, called, walked, and did everything we cod think of for the next several hours, always with the same result...except today, Kiki got company in that tree. Apparently, a local wild bird did not take kindly to the idea of this bizarre colored stranger hanging out and flying around what I ca only assume was the tree with its nest, so every time poor Kiki would get worked up enough to try another flight, out would shoot this little junco or sparrow or other small songbird who would dive bomb her until she had no other choice but to dive for cover right back where - you guessed it- in the tree.
It was around midday, Kiki hadn't said or moved for an hour or more, and we ran home to get more supplies when I got a call from the absolutely wonderful woman at Sunnyskies Bird and Animal rescue, returning my call from yesterday in regards to Kiki. She was very happy to hear that we'd located her, but urged me not to leave the area at all that day because of she decided to make a break for it and we weren't there to see it, we might never see her again. She also suggested standing sideways and facing away from her because even though Kiki knows us, her wild instincts would be waking up and our two forward facing eyes spell "predator" to prey species like birds. She also recommended that when we were calling to her or offering her a place to land when she flew, that we stay calm, be encouraging, and stand in one spot with a steady arm outstretched (as long as that's a normal posture for us and something she's used to). The fact that we'd brought all her favorite things, people, and even a cage Kiki was familiar with made her happy, but she urged me to stay with her, no matter what, and that TODAY was the day!!! I'll never be able to thank her enough for the fire she lit under my butt, because that became my mantra and totally renewed my own inner fire. Today WAS going to be the day, and we were getting her.
We raced back to her, and we were lucky that she hadn't moved from the last spot, and we came ready to wait her out, just as long as it took.
It ended up taking another four or five hours; four or five hours standing in the baking hot sun, calling up in that tree, waiting for the next flight attempt. All the while, I was keeping and eye out for hawks, which Kiki's instincts picked up on also. It amazed me how even though this was the first (and hopefully last) time she had been in a potentially dangerous predator situation, she got quiet and lay low just like the wild birds whenever a hawk would come too close overhead. So we would all just sit quietly until danger had passed, then try again.
Fortunately, the wild bird had his own food to look for, and was away for the most of the day, but even so every time Kiki would fly out, it was just another circle or two and then back to the tree. One tactic I discovered, though, to prompt her to fly was to pretend to be talking on the phone and ignore her. I discovered this when an actual call some through and while I was talking, she flew out and made another pass, this time going out a little farther and just a hair lower! So that gave me the idea to try to psyche her out and see if it did anything. So I had a good, long, fake conversation with myself! I talked about what I was doing, where she was, the weather, the renovations we want to do on the house, the latest drama at work, everything! And while I was having this chat, she'd be trying harder and harder to get my attention! It was a while before she flew again ( you could hear how tired she was in her voice, and it was a hot, hot day), but if anyone reading this and is in this kind of situation, maybe that trick could help!
Back to the tree.
So a few more hours pass, and in the meantime I've rigged a large, 10' version of her normal t stand (basically a normal stand on long lengths of pvc) and staked it into the ground so it wouldn't wobble if/when she landed on it. Her cage is set up with food, water, the works. Various toys, bowls, and items usually on the "do not touch" list are scattered across the ground. We have essentially moved into this particular corner of the orchard. All this, and still no closer to catching Kiki.
It wasn't until we ourselves started moving farther away from that area by the tree that she made one last, BIG circle around the orchard- the farthest she'd gone yet and for a moment I worried she might just take off to some other location- but this time she got enough space to try to line up with us. She started dipping down as she came toward us, and I almost let myself think we might get her this time, but again bailed at the last second and veered into the tree...but this time, it was a different tree, one we hadn't dealt with yet, and one that might possibly be climb able!! (All the others had been too tall even with the ladder and the lowest branches were either dead or just too small to be safe for climbing.) So I scaled the fence, ran inside the tree line, and looked up. The inside was clear almost up the whole height of the tree and had a ton of small but healthy branches! If I could just get up to the top of the ladder, maybe she could climb down to me.... But before I was able to shout all that to my boyfriend on the other side, wouldn't you know it, that little green bird just leaned over to the left and looked down at me, and I could've sworn she said "well, hey down there! Look at you there on the ground, right where I can see you!"
And wouldn't you know it, but a little more coaxing was all it took for that little bird to start climbing down.
Now, she's all of 6 inches long, still 80 feet up in the tree, but you could see she was totally over this flying thing and climbing was just fine by her. She made it down a good 20 feet or so on the first tree before deciding it might be easier on that tree over there! So she coasted over to another one, and climbed down some more. We did this two more times before she finally lands on a young tree and by far the smallest one we'd dealt with this entire time. At the top she was still a good 12-15 feet up, but this was the closest we'd been to her in too long, and boy was the tension high!! You can sit through a four hour movie and not find a tenser moment than the ones we were in under that tree, trying to coax her little green butt down...
So she's making her way down, inch by inch, and we offered her the big t stand, but even though it looks just like her usual one, she wasn't keen on it. So she climbs down another few feet, and she's juuuuust out of reach, when oh! Isn't this just the perfect spot to preen?? Of course it is. So my boyfriend pulls out one of her bowls, some water, and the much beloved treat bowl and starts talking to me about how wonderful the water is! (A little grey eyeball glances over) and this food, how delicious!!! (Now he has her attention) "honey, don't we know any little birdies that might like this? It's just perfect for little green birdies." (I love him.)
So that has her attention, and she is coming down the tree much faster. She got to just about 2 feet above our heads, sat for a second, and then jumped! Right onto the big leafy branch right above us. We reached up, she stepped onto his hand, and as he pulls her in nice and easy he offers her the food bowl and she just DIVES in, head first. He held her wings ever so gently, and for a millisecond she may not have liked it, but then immediately decided she didn't care and her whole world was now in that food bowl.
We covered her up in a shirt and I held her (with the bowl) while e ran for the carrier, and she couldn't have cared less!!! He ran back, tossed it over the fence and I put her in, and I don't think she even noticed.
While my heart broke for how hungry she was, it was all the most full with pure happiness that we'd gotten her back.
We laughed and cried the whole way home, and for the rest of the night and next day as we told and retold the story to all our friends and family who had been worrying and praying with us.
At last, our little family was whole again.
I know that this has been a very long, detailed story, and I thank you for sitting through it all. It is my hope that maybe some part of our experience can help the next person who finds themselves looking for their lost pet.
Don't ever give up.
Be patient.
You know your animal, use that knowledge.
And above all,
Don't ever give up.
Today is the day, my friend.
We took her almost everywhere. And she did very well and didn't fly away, but it only takes once for a bird to be gone forever. One time, we went to Captiva Island, Florida. We took Afie with us. My dad took her to the beach (the island was very secluded, so we were the only ones who were there on that part of the beach) and the waves scared her. She took off and my dad was running behind her, trying to catch her. She landed in a bush, we took her back to the house we were renting and have never taken her outside again.
