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©copyright 2001-2008 Ken Globus
All Rights Reserved
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By Ken Globus
I think both the saddest and happiest moments of the
workshops in Anchorage, Alaska were provided by the
same bird: a very troubled little, female Indian
Ringneck. This was a very sad case. The
Ringneck was believed to have had a history of abuse
and neglect. One thing of which the owner was
sure was that the bird lived in a state of extreme
agitation and
constant, intense fear.
Every time the woman, or anyone, even approached the
Ringneck's cage, she would explode with fear and
thrash around, banging her wings on the sides of the
cage. No matter what the woman tried to do
with patience and love, she was unable to calm that
poor bird. Its wings were beat up; some wounds
were scabbed over and were repeatedly re-injured.
You could even see her injured blood feathers that
had been repeatedly injured, broken or chewed and
never been allowed to fully grow in.
What to do? Even bringing her to the workshop
was risky. When the woman showed up,
before even handling her, the little Ringneck had
already thrashed around and re-opened a wound on
her wing caused by a broken blood feather.
Fortunately, there was a vet on hand to observe the
workshop and he sutured the wound.
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Last Chance To Save
a Broken Spirit
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But I was left with a difficult decision:
should I work with the Little Ringneck and risk
re-opening the wound or should I just leave her
alone? First, I decided to leave her, but then
it started eating at me. How could I give up
without trying?
That bird was headed downhill and I really believed
this might be its last chance to turn around its
life.
So, I decided to at least take the first steps and
find out how she would respond to some hands
on. If there were any signs of problems, I
could back off.
I used some direct touching techniques and she
responded immediately. I worked with her for all of
about fifteen minutes. That's all it took.
In minutes I had that bird sitting calmly on my
hand, doing step-ups and allowing scratches.
It was incredible.
In the end, I was able to tug at its neck feathers
with my lips and kiss its head. People were in
tears. So was I.
When we put her back
in the cage, it was like a different bird, sitting
calmly and preening as people approached her.
No more thrashing around at the sight of humans.
Of all the birds in the workshop, in many workshops,
this Little Ringneck was the most moving and I'll
never forget it.
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