How to Clean up after a Pet Bird

It's a good thing that I'm not Martha Stewart. I wonder if Martha owns any birds. If she were a bird owner, I'm sure she would employ a full aviary staff to provide an adequate solution to the neatness challenge they offer. I can't imagine she would be anything but shocked at the mess. After all, we are talking about a woman who shreds pine needles for her country home walkway to make them neater.

For thirteen years, I owned a sweet little parakeet named Bonnie. Although she was quite capable of producing adequate bird droppings and seed hulls, it didn't seem that our home was quite as beset by avian debris as it is now. Sadly, little Bonnie is no longer with us. However, I still have her partner in crime, Corky the cockatiel, and four sweet finches my daughter brought me last Christmas. The finches came to me in one cage, but soon had to be separated into two pairs, as one male (soon named Dexter) was trying to kill the other (the mild-mannered Chuck.) Dexter and Chuck seem quite happy with their ladies Trudy and Betty. But what a mess!

It certainly appears that birds, particularly finches, can not distinguish between water to drink, water to bathe in, and water that's just, well, another place in which to deposit droppings. Finches are especially busy birds who spend all day fluttering and pooping. The cockatiel is busy enough with her newspaper shredding and the placing of treats and the newspaper society section into the bird bath. She also enjoys flinging fruit, seeds and nuts into the stratosphere -- or onto the floor if her daily duties call for it. You see, every day Corky has a different job. At one time she was a logger, sawing her top-of-the-line high dollar swing in half and eating the sawdust. (Is she not receiving enough fiber?) Another day she was a maid, plucking feathers for the feather duster, although somehow forgetting the feathers would ultimately need to be bound together and not simply dropped one by one down onto the carpet. I believe her placing the newspaper into the birdbath may be her attempt to further fulfill the maid task by doing the cage laundry. Corky has also worked as a solo pilot, a process which begins with sitting innocently on her perch until she is ready for takeoff. At that point, she attempts to turn her body wrong side out and proceeds to flap her wings rapidly until bird dust, cage detritus, and feathers permeate the surrounding air, furniture, and floor.

As it turns out, birds are also sensitive to various scents, most of them having to do with trying to keep your house looking clean and smelling nice. Don't use furniture polish around your birds! Don't use fabric softener! Fortunately, of course there is an entire alternative industry devoted to lines of products which you may safely use around your avian friends. It will only cost you an extra arm and leg. I was blissfully ignorant of all of this, and unaware of these products when bringing up Bonnie. I wonder how she survived those thirteen years? I hope I was not depriving these busy alternative-product makers of hefty profits.

I think there is an advantage to being a bird owner who is not employed outside the home. Now that I'm a freelance worker, I'm able to spend an adequate amount of time each morning changing papers, scrubbing when necessary, and vacuuming all over the place.

Mind you, my birds very rarely even fly free around the house. I know many people find it cruel to keep the birds in cages. I learn from a bird aficionado magazine that it's humorous for your bird to get stuck in the lamp chimney, poop on your guests' heads and tear apart various pieces of furniture. It is funny when they make nests of threads from the intricate crocheted doiles that your Nana went blind putting together for her grandchildren. As long as your bird can recite the alphabet backwards, your guest will not mind a little bird frosting on their hair.

Don't get me wrong, I love my birds. They cheer me up, and I like to think I'm good company for them, as we have many long conversations. I play with them and give them treats and toys.

But sometimes the birds look at me with an attitude adapted straight from a Hitchcock film -- and I know that Corky, Chuck and Betty, Trudy, and especially Dexter are plotting their next mess.