Conversations on a slow road with "re-homed" animals

The other day, I was at the parrot rescue talking to one of the new birds and one of the workers said, "Bob, you have a real way with the parrots."  She was giving me a compliment, but I didn't really feel that it was deserved.  After all, I wasn't actually handling the new bird or training it or making any observable progress, I was just talking to it.  But, he was talking back - it was a conversation.

In the movie, The Last Samurai, the main character (Katsumoto) says to the American Soldier, "I have introduced myself - you have introduced yourself.  It was a good conversation."  That's how it was with this bird - we introduced ourselves.  There was an exchange of respect for each other, but no intimacy.  I told him that I was glad he was here and that we would take care of him as best we could; he told me that he was glad to be here and that he wasn't too sure about things yet and that he was glad that I didn't want to eat him.

It's a slow road with an animal who has learned not to trust poeple.  With well socialized dogs, regardless of their lack of training, I can jump in and teach some basic behaviors really fast.  You know the story: a couple of clicks to charge the clicker and then we get sit, lie down, and fetch before anybody gets bored.  It looks like magic.  With a poorly socialized animal it is a different story - it's a rewarding story, but slow.  Once you get the trust, things pick up, but trust has to be built - a few treats don't make up for years of mistrust.

When I was a teenager, I spent the summers in Texas with my Dad and step-siblings.  One year, my little sister had gotten a siberian husky puppy.  It was about a year old and when I got there, I patted my knees and called, "Come here boy!"  The dog took off with its tail between its legs and hid under a bed!  "Oh, your sister is the only one who can even pet the dog - I don't know what happened but that dog is afraid of everything.  We don't think he will ever be a real family dog."

Well, forget that.  I was a teenage dog trainer and no stupid past experiences were going to keep me from having a great time with this husky - so I started down a slow road.  We started with a conversation.  Over the coming weeks, I got a little closer each day.  I didn't do anything scary.  I didn't try to grab him.  I didn't throw things.  I didn't yell or run.  I sat in a chair.  Then I sat on the floor.  I handed out treats and talked softly.  It was so quiet and slow that not even my family noticed when the dog sat next to me while I slowly petted his neck.  They did notice one evening about a month later when the dog came into the room with a toy and started playing tug-of-war and wrestling with me and playing like a dog!  It took time, but the results were worth it.  I introduced the dog to my brother and then to my dad.  Eventually, I got the dog to sit in the recliner with me and then with my dad.  They had a family dog and I went back home.

It was probably my first taste of the satisfaction and rewards of working with a re-homed animal (I really hesitate to use the word "abused" unless I know for sure that there was truly abuse).   It may have been the first time my dad really showed some appreciation for who I was - it was very reinforcing.

My latest parrot, Kilo Lani, is on a slow road.  Hands frighten him.  Hand-held perches frighten him.  Target sticks frighten him.  Little green dishes full of treats frighten him.  The treats themselves frighten him.  [For some reason the big black dog does not frighten him and he often climbs down low on his cage and calls out, "Come here"]

Yesterday, Kilo sat on a perch beside me as I worked on some graphics designs and took treats from my hand and stepped onto my hand a few times and we hung out.  It was a good conversation.  And, in time, I am convinced that he will learn to play like a family dog - he already barks.