When we moved, we arranged to turn on the cable at the new place early, so that there would be a short overlap in services. Ostensibly, this was so we would have TV and internet access in the new place before we actually moved, but while we were hanging around for the locks to be changed and things like that. In truth, it was also so we could hand in the old cable remote with the old cable box, and enjoy the brand-spanking newness of a pristine cable remote. Oddly enough, the new box looks like an older model than the one we turned in, but the new remote is in mint condition. So far. The same can't be said for the remote to the new sound system, whose "VCR" button already has a dangling chunk. But hey, it's the 21st century. We don't have a VCR anymore!

Interestingly, the Xbox controller remains intact, despite Harley's best efforts.

We think he purchased a movie, though.

One of Harley's favorite games is Bead Stick.

He sits on your knee and plays with beads on a lollipop stick that you hold for him. I've discussed Toys On A Stick before, see the entry Foot Toys.

This particular stick is strung up with different shaped beads whose holes are bigger than the diameter of the stick. Apart from the pony bead at the bottom to keep everything from sliding off, and the pony bead at the top, which Harley had to struggle with a bit, the rest come off easily. Often, he'll grab a bead in the middle of the stick, and fling the ones above all over the living room with a flick of his head. But occasionally he'll get one, and chew on it for awhile.

This past week was the first time that Harley has seemed really comfortable in the new place since we moved. That is, this was the first week that Harley didn't want to spend most of his days moping, alone in his cage, because Bruce was out of town. When Bruce was home he was fine, spending time in his cage, but also ready to be invited out to go where ever we were going, whether upstairs or downstairs or just over to the living room. It didn't matter who was doing the inviting, he was just as happy to join me as Bruce. But once Bruce left for work, he'd give me Stink Eye when I asked him to step up, and stayed inside his house, occasionally chewing on one of his toys when he thought I wasn't looking.

I tried not to worry about him — after all, moving isn't particularly easy for anyone. And he was happy enough to join me in the evenings to watch TV, and later go upstairs for scritches on the bed. But I'll admit I was relieved this past week when he started joining me during the day for various excursions around the house, me either puttering around trying to sort the rooms, or just carrying him around to look at all the interesting things in the new spaces.

I think two things have made him more comfortable. First, the Finsters are back in the Finsterium. I know they're happier there (despite the stingy baths I've been giving them). They're much more active, and much more vocal. Harley doesn't fly over to their cage like Peanut did, or even lean us over there for a visit (he's much more curious about the things in the cupboards). But I'll bet he's happier now that his pets are settled into the Big House.

Second, Harley has discovered the window in the bedroom. He loves to sit on the sill, and look outside.

We'll go upstairs for at least a little while almost every day. He'll sit there for hours sometimes, looking and listening and occasionally talking while I work on the laptop, do laundry, or otherwise keep myself occupied. I'm convinced this spot is better for him than just sitting in his cage, since there are things to look at, and he gets some sunshine through the screen.

Although we've tried Harley out in other windows, the one in our bedroom is his favorite. It's upstairs, and he probably feels safer higher up. There's just enough activity going on in the cul-de-sac that it's interesting, but it isn't too loud or busy. And even on an overcast day, it's nice and bright. We plan to create some sort of Harley Station here soon, so he'll have toys to play with and things to climb on (for now he just throws the occasional toy off the window sill). We'll definitely have to do this before it gets too cold to keep the window open. But for now he's pretty happy looking out over the neighborhood and learning the wild birds' songs.

Two exciting things happened yesterday: first, the Finsters finally moved back into the Finsterium.
Despite the fact that I now have a good view of the cage (and Jean-Luc isn't lurking behind it), this isn't the best photograph; the plastic film taped to the back of the cage is reflecting badly (still, the versions without the flash were worse), the camera batteries died, and then a big thunderstorm came in before I had a chance to try for more. Another time.

Since we took the cage completely apart for the move, we had the chance to do some minor repairs and give it a good cleaning. No real reason it took us just over a month to move the Finsters in, though. I blame pure laziness, the insanity inherent in moving, and — well — pure laziness. Lucky for the Finsters, guilt finally kicked in.

As usual, I lined the hospital cage door up with the door to the Finsterium, and waited for the birds to leave the cramped, waterless and foodless wasteland for the wide-open Garden of Eden that is the Big House. As usual, I had to wait awhile for the birds to move. Cinnamon was first, after half an hour of thinking. Once in, he made some lovely, happy finch sounds as he flew around to check out all the accoutrements: nest boxes! space to fly! tasty seeds! floor snacks! nice shells! Although the different species of finches likely make slightly different noises, these happy finch sounds always remind me of the sound that R2-D2 makes in Star Wars: A New Hope, when C-3P0 leaves him on Tatooine to deal with the message from Leia on his own. Except that R2-D2's whistles seem sad, while a Finster's chirp is definitely joyful.

After checking everything out, Cinnamon proceeded to be King of the Seed Tower, and tried his hardest to entice Ginger out of the hospital cage with his Hunka Hunka Burning Love song and various other whistles and chirps. It took him a little over 20 minutes, and then it took about an hour and a half for the two birds to take a bath.

And this is where I remembered the main reason why we had the Finsterium in the kitchen in the old apartment — not because it fit better there, or looked better, or was part of the fung shui of the whole thing. No. The reason was the linoleum. The water-resistant linoleum.

Now, the apartment had carpet everywhere except the kitchen and the bathroom, so putting the Finsterium in the kitchen was the obvious choice (the bathroom was too small). But the new place has wood floors everywhere. So far, I've dealt with the water problem by putting plastic computer mats in appropriate places, and wiping up the water splashes when they arrive. This is easier with Harley, because he only takes baths in his water dish about once a month. The Finsters, on the other hand, are happy-go-lucky, bath-taking fiends. I've taped clear plastic to the back of the cage, but short of putting computer mats over most of the den (so attractive!), I'm not sure what to do. So far I've tried simply not giving them much water to bathe in. But that's a little mean. Also, it doesn't work. You'd be surprised how much water can get splashed out of a 3 1/2 inch (mostly) square dish (picture pops) — and just how far that water will go! Well, I'll figure it out. Probably around the same time I learn to deal with cleaning more than one bathroom. Right. Probably never.

Harley was very interested in the whole moving-in process. While he wasn't too keen on going inside the Finsterium, he personally inspected most of the nest boxes, and watched us carefully the whole time.

But having his pets back in their big cage wasn't the most exciting part of Harley's Sunday. Instead, he warmed this English Major's heart by regaling us with a perfect use of language!

As I've mentioned, he knows how to say — in context — "are you ready for bed?" and "are you hungry?" Although, admittedly, that last one is often truncated to "ya hung?" Sometimes, Harley uses the phrase "are you ready for bed" to indicate that he is ready for something else, like joining us on the couch, or going upstairs to play on the bed. (He uses the phrase "here Harley" more specifically when he wants something to eat.)

Last night he was very excited about having dinner, partly because it was Macaroni And Cheese Night, and partly because Bruce was grilling on the patio and we had Harley closed in his cage so he wouldn't be tempted to fly out after him. (Yeah, that's a good story.) The more time went on, the more vocal Harley became about being READY TO GO. Until finally, he came out with the most appropriate combination:

"Are you ready for hung?"

You bet!

A couple of weeks ago one of my regular readers (thanks, Mam Adar!) pointed me to an article about Yosuke, a Congo African Grey that lives in Japan. He escaped from his home and was missing for about two weeks before he was rescued by police and taken to a vet's office where — after settling down for a bit — he told everyone his name and address, and regaled them with a heartfelt rendition of "All Along The Watchtower." (Well, actually, the article doesn't say what the bird sang, but that'd be cool, wouldn't it?) The police checked on the address the bird recited, and Yosuke was reunited with his family. Yahoo! News published the AP story "Lost parrot tells veterinarian his address" on May 21. It's a great story.

In fact, several people pointed me to the piece, and I've heard reports that bosses everywhere printed copies of the article, and quietly left them on the desks of bird lovers. Which suggests interesting things about work dynamics in the United States, but I guess that's a different story.

The article obviously has me thinking about what I might teach Harley to say, in case he gets lost. Having just moved, our new address doesn't seem "permanent" yet, and really, you just never know when you might get uprooted in this economy. Phone numbers are currently more permanent than addresses, and with a bit of planning and attention you can have complete control over an e-mail address.

But in my experience, it isn't easy to teach a bird what to say. Harley arrived in Michigan knowing how to say "are you ready for bed," and "are you hungry." But that last one usually comes out "ya hung?" Which could be somewhat awkward in polite conversation. The phrases I've tried to teach him (like "I'm the bird, gotta love me"), or the things I find myself saying frequently (like "all righty then" [I know, I know], or "you're adorable") never get repeated. Instead, I hear the awkward sighs of a 45-year-old slightly creaky woman getting up from the couch, and "uh huh." All the time.

I've had the best luck with "ch" sounds. Harley arrived knowing how to say "I love you so much" — which, while not something I'd try to teach on my own, is ADORABLE. Over the year he's been here, he's learned how to say "yo soy muy macho," "you're so macho," "you're so immature," and a sound that's a combination of "choo-choo" and alien phaser fire.*

But the other problem is the bird's memory. If he learns this address and I move, do I have to leave forwarding information here for years to come? How many places might I take him over his (hopefully) long life? How many new addresses can I expect him to learn? And wouldn't I rather spend our training time teaching him to say "I'm the bird, gotta love me?"

Take this YouTube video, for example.

Sure, it's great that Smokey has learned to say "Obama, yes we can!" But Senator Obama's new presidential slogan is "change we can believe in." Will Smokey learn to say that? And if Obama becomes president will there be a new slogan for Smokey to learn? And worse (much, much worse) if Obama loses the election, will Smokey's humans go crazy listening to him say "Obama, yes we can!" over and over again?

Yes, I think so!

I'd much rather spend the rest of my life having Harley tell me how immature I am.

* Harley's former mom is welcome to chime in, in case she's the one who taught him to say any of these things!