My belief in Bailey’s masculinity wasn’t a random guess. I met him at the pet store where I bought food and toys for my parrot and the owner said he was male. (I’m sticking with masculine pronouns as I describe the 19 years when I thought he was male.) Bailey had been purchased as a Christmas gift for someone who returned him to the store for “a parrot that talks.” This heart-breaking story drew me to Bailey right away and I feel weepy anger as I write about this rejection. Every time I went to the pet store, I visited their parrots: Sophie the Eleonora Cockatoo, Brat the Blue and Gold Macaw (neither of them for sale) and Bailey the Maximillian’s Pionus who was for sale. Bailey’s cleverness, curiousity, and sweetness drew me to him. Also, he was lonely.
After a couple months, Bailey knew the sound of my car parking in front of the store and whistled his signature call as I opened the shop door. I always went straight to where Bailey languished alone in a big cage at the back of the store, surrounded by tropical fish tanks. We chatted and I was the only customer permitted to take Bailey from the cage, wander the store with him on my shoulder, and help him choose a new toy. Months passed and Bailey still waited for the special human who would bring him home to a family. I stewed about it. Bailey wasn’t mistreated, but no one was going to buy him unless they could see him.
After a few more months, I was obsessing about Bailey. What if a thoughtless arrogant human looking at tropical fish bought him and demanded he talk? Then returned him once again if he didn’t perform? This is not an unusual situation as many parrots go through multiple homes in a few years when the reality of what that impulse purchase requires hits the buyers. I’m grateful to the store for their return policy so the parrots they sold didn’t end up abandoned.
Finally, eight months after first meeting Bailey I went in the store, paid his $800 ransom, and brought him home to live with Patagonian conure Chispa, malamute Pele, wolfdog Xel, my daughter, and me.
Months previously, the store owner had told me Bailey was a DNA sexed male. Being a mellow Bodhisattva kind of guy, Bailey fit right in with us. Chispa was Captain of Everything. Pele was Guardian, Xel was Worrier, daughter was Math Wiz, and Bailey became Communicator With Rest Of World. I was She Who Has Fingers, and their servant. Within the first month, I’d begun calling him Bailey Baby and Big Bailey and one morning I woke up to hear him repeating “Big Bailey Baby” in a happy, smug voice.
Several months after springing Bailey from the store, I returned to buy more biscuits and decided to take him with me to visit Sophie, Brat and the tropical fish. I knew Bailey enjoyed them because he’d picked up both their alarm calls (deafening raucous screams) and the sound of aquarium water bubbling in a filter. I put him in his travel cage and after parking by the store, I let him out to perch on my shoulder. His wings were clipped so he couldn’t fly but I’m never that careless now — I was naive/stupid back then (none of his adventures was due to outdoor shoulder rides). As we walked in the door, Bailey leaned into my ear and said fervently “Love You!” I wondered if he thought I was returning him (sob).
That was in 1998. We’ve lived together ever since. Pele and Xel are gone now, Math Wiz has her own home, but Chispa (reportedly DNA sexed male) is still Our Captain. Lazuli bare-eye cockatoo joined us in 1999 and took over as Worrier, freeing Xel to be Running Wolf the rest of her life. (Actually Lazuli exceeded Xel and is Beside Herself With Worry.)
Lazuli was DNA sexed as female and I suspected this even before the lab results came in. Cockatoos aren’t sexually dimorphic but often the females have dark brown eyes and the males are black-eyed. Subsequently, she laid a few eggs over the years — infertile but an unmistakeable female sign.
In early 2014 during a routine annual exam, Bailey was diagnosed with fatty liver disorder and high lipids. Terrifying and potentially deadly. His diet was switched to low fat biscuits, limited fruits, and no starchy carbohydrates except quinoa with the veggie chop I make for the parrots. He began taking milk thistle extract and getting 4-6 month check-ups.
He also was overweight, being a perch potato. I sometimes called him Bailey Belly for his little pot belly. He knows where every scrap of fallen biscuit or yam lands and remembers so he can sneak back and nab it. I let his wing feathers grow out so he could fly for exercise, even though he’d had adventures sailing out the door, twice. He wasn’t able to fly up then, but he managed enough trouble just gliding. His indoor flights also can result in trouble.
Over the past three years since diagnosis, Bailey’s health has improved. In his October 2016 check-up, his weight, 274 grams, and all blood work were normal. We didn’t slack off on the low fat diet and milk thistle. His super-memory for where the other parrots dropped forbidden food, ability to fly in and grab them when I wasn’t looking, and penchant for sneaking into Lazuli’s cage and snatching full-fat biscuits, however, were more extensive than I realized. At his January 26th check-up, Bailey had gained a whopping 20 grams and his cholesterol level zoomed up exponentially. Normal range is 100-300 mg/dL and Bailey’s is 1,654. Where did all that come from? His blood test was also abnormally low for calcium and electrolytes like phosphorus and sodium. All this was alarming and our Board-certified Avian Vet (there are less than 150 in the U.S.) called to ask me “are you sure Bailey is a boy?”
Of course I was sure Bailey is a boy. I never questioned this, but had no proof except what I was told 19 years ago. And gender determines how the low calcium and electrolytes are evaluated. If Bailey were female, this would be a normal level for someone preparing an egg. (AN EGG! Bailey might lay an egg?) If male, the levels are seriously skewed lab results that require treatment. The vet asked if I wanted to spend another $100 for a DNA blood test to determine gender. After spending $600 or more every 4-6 months on tests, of course I wanted to drop a mere $100 to confirm the truth that Bailey is male and follow the right treatment. So the blood sample was sent off to the specialty lab. And the vet called an avian nutritionist and pharmaceutical specialist to learn more about new treatment options for high cholesterol.
I first heard back on the treatment. Bailey is forbidden all fruit and quinoa. Just the low fat biscuits and non-starchy veggies. No human high cholesterol drugs are effective for parrots (no birdie statins), but I should add rutin and Co-enzyme Q10 powder sprinkled on food to support his cardio-vascular system. Also, Bailey needs to eat fewer biscuits. Even one extra biscuit a day is enough to add on grams of weight. So now I carefully measure out 1.5 tablespoons per day. Bailey feels deprived and has increased his scavenging skills. I’m faster cleaning up dropped food to limit his opportunities.
Friday, the vet called back with the DNA test results. His voice vibrated with surprise but I still wasn’t prepared for what he said. Bailey is female! My mind spun — he’s a girl? Wait, she’s a girl? Pronoun confusion griped my thoughts until the vet said this means the electrolyte and calcium test results aren’t dire. Whew. Only the high cholesterol and extra 20 grams of weight to worry about, which are serious enough.
I’m surprised by how much this news surprises me. Bailey doesn’t care if I use the wrong pronouns or call her Bailey Boy. I didn’t realize how much I had genderized her and the other parrots. This gives me a tiny hint of what it must be like for parents to hear from their 19 year old son that He is really She and from now on must be referred to as a girl. I have friends with transgender kids (who are adults now) and we’ve talked about how this affected them. None of my friends were resistant to their child’s revelation and they all shifted to the new gender-appropriate names chosen. A few parents felt confirmed in something they’d wondered about. But I’d not fully understood how deep our emotional sense of gender knowledge runs and how many verbal habits are tied to gender, even in reference to parrots.
Bailey keeps her name and if it were James, I’d still not change it. I’m trying to use female pronouns for her but it’s difficult. I’ve only known her for three days. But wow am I glad to have learned this before Bailey laid an egg!
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What’s your story today? Any big surprises?