Walk the bird and watch the feathers fly

Image by Marj Kibby

I pass you on the footpath as you walk your dog. You gaze at me with surprise and amusement, give a slightly patronising smile. Yes, I do have a cockatoo perched on my arm. He is indeed wearing a harness; tethered closely, like your canine friend, for safety. Don't stick your finger out, unless you want to get nipped by a sharp beak that has evolved for cracking nuts. Yep, I probably do have an unfortunate splotch staining my skirt. It washes out.

Illustration: Simon Letch.Social norms regarding animals on outings are clear: dogs are in, but it defies convention to have a bird or cat on a leash. It's considered eccentric and peculiar. Parrots are often left in small cages, hour after hour, year after year, with little change of scenery. This is considered normal; no one bats an eyelid - but they should.

I take Birdy-Boy out to provide him with mental stimulation and social interaction. On occasion we visit the local feral rooster, or join a cockatoo flock in Centennial Park for the excitement of their dusk chorus. He's quite familiar with outdoor cafe life, although he's been known to toss cutlery off the table, get coffee on his tail feathers and give the evil eye to waiters. Cafe regulars make a point of saying hello; he adores Dave the bus driver and Grandma Mona (who sounds a tad like a cockatoo herself).

A side benefit are the strangers I have met - including intrigued gorgeous guys wanting dates. Birdy-Boy is an impressive wing-man (sorry, couldn't resist that one). He also does a great protection detail - riding on my shoulder to parties, helping to ward off unwanted hugs and kisses. However, more usually I am accosted by tweenage photographers, or other parrot enthusiasts who swap stories of chewed power cords, or a variety of bewildered onlookers.

If Birdy is travelling in a petite cage, your concern for space is appreciated - but I simply can't carry his usual palatial home. I cannot release him to the wild, as he wouldn't survive. Surprisingly few people know what sort of bird he is, despite the Corella being a common native cockatoo. With a short white crest, some think he's just a sick sulphur-crested cocky that has lost his yellow spikes. He's not, and nor is he elderly - he's in his 30s, just like his youthful owner. He may live to be 70, and I do mean human years.

So if you're thinking of adopting a pretty feathered friend, consider carefully and do remember that a lonely, bored life in a cage is not necessary. Providing quality of life is worth being deemed eccentric for. Before you ask, though, I do draw the line at walking my goldfish.