Bird’s-Eye View of Animal Magnetism

Being rather homebound for the time being, I have become aware of several household phenomena that had previously escaped my notice.

My wife talks to birds.

We have three parakeets and a cockatiel. The cockatiel is smaller than a parrot, but just as mean. Early in the morning, when my wife is preparing to go to work, he sometimes spews out a stream of abuse, strident and unrelenting.

They are not words, understand, just harsh, nerve-racking squawks. After so much of this, my wife says something like, “Oh, be quiet you. I’ll get around to you in a minute.”

She often commiserates with the bird, saying such things as, “I know. You want to be free. But I can’t let you out.”

She does not use the silly falsetto that many women affect when talking to infants or the lower species. She speaks in her natural alto, which is a blessing, and she always uses perfect English, as she does in all her conversations. She never stoops to baby talk. How are the animals going to learn perfect English if you use bad grammar?

One morning, while she was giving the bird some philosophical reassurance, I called out to her. “Why do you talk to that bird?”

“Because he sometimes answers me,” she said. “He chirps.” She added: “You don’t chirp.”

As a skeptic I don’t believe birds can talk, although some species can learn to speak a few words. What they can’t do is think, as we do.

You may remember that a few years ago, I had an incident with a cockatiel owned by my wife. He eventually died of meanness. Once when I was home alone, he escaped from his cage and flew down into our deep Jacuzzi bathtub. I got into the bathtub and caught him. He bit me, fixing his beak in a death grip on my thumb. I climbed with difficulty out of the tub, marched across the bathroom and shoved him into his cage, breaking his grip and leaving a bloody wound.

Quite distinctly the bird said, “Big deal.” I had never heard him say those words or any words before. I do not know how to account for his contemptuous comment. He never talked to me again.

So I don’t think my wife is actually having a conversation with her bird--but evidently, she does.

I know many people swear they talk with their dogs and cats, but I don’t believe it. Oh, you can give a dog a simple command such as “Fetch!” and it will fetch whatever it is you throw out. Then the dog will stand there stupidly, wagging its tail, waiting for the next command.

I have noticed my wife has sometimes used her technique with me when she is trying to disabuse me of some heresy, talking in a low-pitched voice and using perfect English. It doesn’t work on me because I’m not a dog.

We have to keep our dog tied up because she gets over the fence and neighbors have to bring her home. We don’t know how she gets out, but we don’t want her running around the neighborhood.

If she could speak English, I would just say to her, “Don’t run away and you’ll be free to run around the yard to your heart’s content.” She would have her freedom, and I would have peace of mind.

I know some animals are smart and can do astounding things. But the smartest dog in the world can’t parse a sentence. I suspect birds are a lot dumber than dogs and cats, although they can be trained to do simple tricks.

What bothers me is my wife’s complaint that I can’t even chirp. I probably have many shortcomings as a husband, but not being able to chirp is not one of them.

I know how to chirp. “Chirp. Chirp.” See, it’s that easy. If I start chirping every time I want something, the next thing you know, I’ll be standing at attention every time she says “Fetch.”

Even a bird isn’t that dumb.

I guess my wife loves birds because they are so beautiful and fragile and because of their lovely song. But what she sees in that curmudgeon cockatiel that grinds out his grating complaint every morning, I can’t understand.

Big deal.

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Jack Smith’s column is published Mondays.

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