The Macaw Clock

According to the calendar, it's only eleven days until the first day of spring. Judging by the blowing snow and insane cold the last week, Mother Nature hasn't checked her calendar.

Global warming notwithstanding, it's been another long, cold winter in Alberta. Just ask Jackie. She's going stir crazy. She wants to get outside, and obviously can't. Don't ask me how, but she knows exactly what time of year it is. I expect it has something to do with the longer days. Usually, by March, she's getting a few hours out in the greenhouse almost every afternoon. She has lots of room out there, and really enjoys the change. This year, it's just too cold, and I can't start the greenhouse up. Not to mention that getting the Macaw from the back door to the greenhouse is out of the question. She won't wear a snowsuit, and stuffing her under my jacket is comparable to snuggling up with a lobster.

I have to say that this particular Macaw knows the time of day right down to the minute, the days of the week, and the seasons of the year. We have a daily routine, and when it's time to do something, she expects me to do it. If I'm busy and late getting started for some reason, she makes a real nuisance of herself to get me to get going. She can be a real pest about it, getting in the way of whatever I'm doing. Being a mere human, it took me a long time to figure out what she was up to, and even now, I can be really dense.

I'm sure she knows the days of the week. Take the regular shopping routine for example. For years, I went to town on the same day every week. Jackie would get a new toy, and a treat, because I would have to confine her to her sunroom. The first few times shopping day came and went, and I stayed home, Jackie was beside herself.

Another part of our routine that Jackie seems to know is bathday. In the winter, creating a soggy wet macaw is a major production, so we only do it once a week, on Wednesday, right after lunch. We have a wood stove, so I usually build up the fire, and get the house nice and warm before we start. If I haven't just done it, I vacuum, too. Dry dust cleans up easier than wet dust, and trust me: The dust is going to get wet.

Once in a while, I just forget all about bath day. Life is so exciting here in the winter, with so much to do, that it's quite common for me to lose track of time. In fact, I've actually been known to check an electronic device to find out what day of the week it is. Some people tell me that's indicative of boredom and drudgery, but what do they know?

If Jackie doesn't see me getting ready for her bath, she kicks into nuisance mode. She usually starts by inserting herself between me and whatever I'm doing. If I ignore her or keep pushing her away, she switches tactics. Flying back and forth over top of my head works sometimes, but if I'm being particularly dense, it won't work either. That's when she starts doing things she's not supposed to.

Yesterday morning was one of the two mornings in the year when everything changes. Humans went on daylight savings time, which seriously changes the way I do things. Convincing the Macaw that the routine has to change is just about impossible. She just doesn't see the point.

I use my cell phone for an alarm, so the stupid thing went off when it was supposed to, getting me up an hour earlier than the day before. Jackie usually gets up thirty to forty-five minutes after she hears me moving around – she likes the house to warm up first - which she did yesterday. The trouble was, it was still dark outside. The chores I would normally do first thing, before breakfast, are easier in the daylight. The horse I look after wouldn't be expecting me for another hour, and the wild birds counting on the food and water I provide were still asleep. I decided to have breakfast first. This was fine with Jackie. She was hungry, and didn't mind a change that had me looking after her. It was after breakfast that the trouble started.

I poured a second cup of coffee and sat down in the living room. Jackie went into nuisance mode. She started by sitting on a chair nearby and making a repetitive, annoying noise. I thought maybe she was cold, so I moved her chair over by the fire. She kept it up, so I got up and found her some toys to play with.

That lasted all of two minutes. I had gone back to my coffee, but soon noticed she wasn't playing with the toys. In fact, she had gone into her room. [Yes, she has her own room. She shares it with my plants, but it's her room.] I could see her, and watched her go to her pot of dirt. [More on that another day.] She sat on the edge, scooped up a beak full of dirt, and threw it on the floor. I decided to ignore it, reasoning that I could sweep it up without too much trouble. She kept this up for several minutes, watching me after each beak full went flying. When I continued to ignore her, she flew over to one of my plants. Needless to say, this got my attention.

I put her back in her bed [cage] while I cleaned up the mess. When I finished, I gave her my standard 'how would you like to live in there' lecture, and then let her out. She listened intently, but as you can see from the second picture, didn't show much remorse. By this time, my coffee was nearly cold, and it was light outside, so I decided to do the chores. This is when it finally occurred to me that the Macaw clock was still on standard time.

As soon as I started to put on my coat, Jackie came running with her stainless steel bowl. This is probably her favourite toy, and apparently the game I call fling the bowl is an important part of her morning routine.

Because it is extremely cold here in the winter, I try to keep the tropical bird away from the door any time I open it. I do this by flinging the bowl into the kitchen, where it makes a loud noise as it bounces across the floor. Jackie chases after it, and brings it back. In the morning, I might have to do this two or three times before I get outside with all the food and water I need to do the chores.

Jackie usually waits at the kitchen door for me until I get back, or arrives there soon after. When I come in, I toss the bowl into the kitchen again, which I did this morning. This seemed to satisfy her, as she spent a little while amusing herself.

The reason I'm certain she's expecting the weather to be milder is also related to her behaviour. For most of the winter, she will usually keep herself occupied. She has stashes of toys scattered around the house, and visits them frequently as she goes about her day. It doesn't usually take a lot of effort on my part to keep her busy, but I've noticed the last week or two that her already short attention span is shrinking. Nothing keeps her occupied for long, and she's spending a lot of time being a nuisance. It's obvious she expects me to fix things for her. Unfortunately, there's nothing I can do about the weather; but right now, Jackie is nagging at me to do something. I just have to figure out what.