FINCHES

Magnificent Zest for Life

Everyone reacts differently when faced with a serious accident that leaves one handicapped. It can be the same with a bird.

In my early years of birdkeeping I bought a beautiful pair of green-back Goulds. The female was particularly striking with a burgundy red mask inside a black one that encircled her head. This was Masha. She was a quiet hen. When in the cage with another Gould hen, she always acquiesced to the other, giving up her perch or her place at the food bowl. I was so pleased to see her come into breeding condition and busy in the nest with her mate. Shortly thereafter she became ill with diarrhea. At that point in birding I had no idea what to do, so I rushed her off to an avian vet. In the course of being x-rayed, one of her wings was seriously injured. After her recuperation she could no longer fly.

I was heartbroken. My beautiful bird just scuttled about on the floor of the cage and tried to hop onto low perches, frequently falling. In the beginning she tried to fly, but soon learned that her one good wing would not lift her into the air. I redesigned the cage for her with low perches and food and water on the floor of the cage, making sure there was always another finch or two in the cage with her for company.

Her little bird personality began to change. Whereas before, she was more passive, she became outgoing and aggressive. When I would pick her up for any reason, she would give me a very sound bite on the finger with a fierce look in her eyes. On the floor of the cage no bird could chase her from the food bowl.

When I moved cross-country, I placed all the birds in a low travel crate with their food on the floor of the crate and a small screened area for light. They could not fly in it. Now all the finches were in the same situation as Masha. She became the Alpha bird. At one point I looked into the crate and she had all the other birds on one side while she was alone with the fresh food on the other. Way to go, Masha, I thought. Let that spirit shine!

When I arrived at my new home, I put all the birds into a large aviary-size cage. My Masha was always at the bottom looking up. So I made a series of perches for her to hop on to get up higher. That was a mistake I will never repeat. She began to fall every so often, as the other birds could easily make her lose her balance. She eventually developed twirling. That is an illness of the inner ear, where a bird continually turns its head and moves in a circle to find its equilibrium. I didn't realize at the time that the falls had probably contributed to her beginning to twirl.

I moved her into a smaller cage and put perches low for her. She could still hop onto a few. I began to research cures for twirling. After trying quite a few remedies, high concentrations of Vitamin B seemed to give her some relief. Her head was often positioned straight.

Through all this, her spirit did not wane. I still got a decisive bite when I picked her up. And she could often scurry about on the floor of the cage with more agility than any bird I ever saw, except perhaps a quail. Even when her head was turned so that one would wonder how she ever saw anything, she managed to hop up on her perches and sit on the edge of the food bowl. At on point my birdsitters unknowingly placed her water out of her reach. I came home and discovered this little bird had managed to jump into the other birds' bath to get a drink, which she had never done before.

She seemed "unsinkable". Normally a bird with as many problems as this would be a subject for euthanasia. But with her indominitable spirit, I could never think of doing that to Masha. It seemed to me that she craved every moment of life possible. Of course, that is from my human point of view. As an animal behavioralist, one could say that she was very capable of adapting to her circumstances. But her plight went deeper than that with me.

This creature always rose from the worst afflictions a bird could endure to fight for every bit of life given her. In my reflections on my own struggles to face difficuties in life, I realized that Masha did this far better than I. In the very way she met life this tiny bird taught me new things about this aspect of life. Despite being unable to fly and unable to hop well, Masha had a great spirit that was not bound, but soared as she could not.

In the course of her last days, my tame finches took to sitting in front of her cage to relax. She began sitting in the front of the cage near them and looking for them when they weren't there. One evening I heard a bird struggling in the night. I found Masha on her side with her wing trapped in the cage bottom. When I picked her up to free her, she bit me in her typical fierce manner. Adversity, as always, just seemed to bring out the unconquerable spirit of this little bird. Yet in the morning I awoke and found her laying on her side, but still breathing. The twirling had progressed to the stage where she could no longer stand. I knew it was time to have her put down. That was a very sad day. I put her former mate in the cage where she had lived. Now when I looked into the cage, I saw a bird that looked like her flying. That played tricks on my sight, making me think I saw Masha flying about in the cage. And then I realized that, indeed she was flying, this little creature, Masha of the magnificent zest for life.