Kosmo is indeed a mystery. I have asked for background on him, but so far I’ve only been given some details regarding certain medical issues. These are fairly evident i.e. feather plucking and self-mutilation. I suspect that antidotal details are unknown or, for reasons of confidentiality, they are withheld until I officially adopt him. That’s right, Kosmo is my foster bird at present, although it is understood that my intention is to adopt him. This foster period allows both Kosmo and I some wiggle room.
I’ve included some pictures of him that show where he’s still missing feathers. There is also a patch between his wings and lesions on his legs that you can’t see. However, his current condition is supposedly a big improvement. You can tell where feathers are growing back in: white little tuffs – this is the down that will make up his undercoat. I don’t know if he’s still plucking anymore (it’s hard to distinguish from regular preening), I don’t think so because I haven’t found a lot of feathers lying around.
Looking at him, you can’t help questioning why he would do this to himself. Also, at 12 years old (yes, he’s actually 12 not 11) why doesn’t he talk or fly (he has flight feathers.) This stirs up all kinds of speculation: Was he wild caught? (God forbid!) Was he locked in his cage with hardly any interaction? Was he starved or mistreated and now suffering from brain or emotional damage? Or, was he dearly loved, but given up for some unknown, unescapable reason and because of this, has become what he is…not that I’m even entirely sure what that might be.
I have learned a few things:
He loves water, but prefers the showers to baths (not unexpected given the free-dive incident!)
He is afraid of most of the toys I’ve bought for him, but has absolutely no fear of the vacuum cleaner.
He doesn’t want to poop on me, and while sitting on my shoulder, will reach over and nip my ear to let me know he needs down to do his business.
He does a happy dance by bopping up and down every time I clap my hands. Avid applause gets him doing a pretty good rendition of the Funky Chicken.
If I urge him off my finger on to someone else’s, he will warily go and slowly, he will warm up to that person (this isn’t normal for Quakers that are known as being “one person birds.”)
He is, as I was told, a very sweet bird, one that deserves a chance to be happy again.
I may never know why he started to hurt himself, or what happened over those 12 years, but that’s OK. I guess Kosmo, like us all, is also entitled to a few secrets.