Human-bird relationships
The night Sharlene Wade watched her husband, Don, lose his battle with cancer, there wasn’t a sound in the house. That was odd. With 60 or more birds cohabiting, it’s a rare moment that one of them isn’t chattering, chirping or squawking.
When Cisco, Don’s best green-feathered friend, did finally start talking, he brought Sharlene to tears by asking, “Where is my Donald?”
The parrot can just as easily bring her to laughter by mimicking her expression, “Oh, my stars.” Yes, Cisco can talk, sing “Old MacDonald,” and pluck himself bald if he’s upset.
“He was naked when we got him,” Sharlene said. “Don got him fully feathered.”
Many don’t understand the fragile human-bird relationship, according to Sharlene. That’s why she takes in birds who are relegated to dark basements, retrieved from drug houses or discarded by inattentive owners. The year Don died, 385 birds went through their small, single-wide trailer in Hayden. Some had one leg or were born with legs backward. Some had owners who threatened to release them into the Idaho cold. Sharlene keeps delicate lovebirds and powerful Amazons who could snap her wrist with their beaks, she believes. But they don’t. They listen to her sweet endearments and reply with their own.
It is an unlikely hobby for someone who swore off birds as an 8-year-old child. Sharlene’s family parakeet accidentally hanged itself on a toy she made in school. Certainly she has righted that traumatic wrong by now, but she still can’t say no to a forsaken bird.
A typical day with her husband involved cleaning the cages together and visiting with their flock. She misses him but takes comfort in Casper, his posthumous gift. A week before their 30th wedding anniversary, she learned of a pure white umbrella cockatoo being sold for $1,500. She couldn’t afford it, but always wanted one of this breed, made famous by the TV show “Baretta.” She asked the owner to consider a trade. Don’s death left her with a Les Paul guitar that he played when the couple sang for local churches. The owner agreed that guitar and bird made a fair swap.
“I just felt like it was Don sending me in that direction,” she said.
She’s down to “only” 65 birds now that Don isn’t there to help. She doesn’t sell the birds or actively seek owners, but if someone comes by and the bird “falls in love,” she lets it go. Vets and pet stores send her potential owners. They also send her neglected birds, abandoned birds, and sick and wounded birds.
It costs $140 a month to keep the birds in feed pellets. Fresh produce is essential, and prices fluctuate with the seasons. Sharlene found a vet who does house calls and has a library of bird books to manage as many health issues as she can on her own. She works two jobs to support her bird family and rarely has cash for “extras.” Large nuts are a treat for strong beaks, and shredded toys need replacements. Sharlene has yet to travel and meet her first grandchild because she can’t afford to fix the brakes on her car.
“Lots of times I go without so they can have,” she said.
Cages line the windows of her kitchen and cover the linoleum floor of her living room. The birds take turns tiptoeing across the curtain rods or sitting with Sharlene in her easy chair.
Her two days off each week go to the birds. Completing chores is more difficult alone, but after 20 years of bird ownership, she has no plans to stop. She does dream of better living quarters, though. Don had planned to build a large aviary. That plan was cut short by the diagnoses of a rare cancer in September five years ago. He had a leg amputated the following February and died that New Year’s Eve.
The birds that began this collection are gone now, too. The first one was a stray and was returned to its owner. The next two, Pepper and Spencer, Don bought to console Sharlene from that loss. They lived to be nearly 15. Pepper died soon after Don did, and Spencer followed seven months ago. Others come to fill the void, and most have special needs.
Sharlene brought home a pair of macaws the day Don’s leg was amputated. They suffered from asthma and were caged with a bird that plucked and bullied them. The night Don died, once everyone left, one of the macaws kept calling to Sharlene, “Momma come here.”
When she finally did, the birds wrapped his wings around her head and said, “I love you, Momma.”
The birds love and grieve deeply. Lots of people don’t realize that they bond for life and can die of a broken heart, Sharlene said. One woman lost interest in her bird after 14 years. Sharlene knew that abandonment would be dangerous and begged the owner to reconsider. In the end, despite Sharlene’s misgivings, the woman relinquished her bird. It was dead within a week.
“The only thing they care about is being loved by you,” she said.