My first bird was a green peach-faced lovebird that I often referred to as “my little son.” This bird went everywhere with me hidden beneath my hair: to work, to college classes, to parties, and sometimes even on dates. We were as close as a bird and human could be. When “my little son” was about 2 years old we went from soul mates to arch enemies overnight. My feelings were very hurt when the bird charged at me, hissing, beak open and wings spread, as I tried to take him out of the cage in the morning. What had I done? Why was he behaving this way? Then I saw it. The egg. My little boy was a she! And she was protecting her egg like a crocodile.
**For the full article, pick up the May 2009 issue of BIRD TALK**
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