A few months ago I taught Philip a new phrase. It was a simple one: “wanna come?” I would say it to him in the evening after supper when I was ready to take him with me to the office. The office is his favorite room in the whole house, so he was always willing to come.
I had been saying that to him for a couple of weeks when he found an entirely new and endearingly cute use for the phrase. We had just come back from his boarding place (at his vet, where they love him) and I had him in his travel palace, I mean, cage. I needed to unlock the door and take a couple of things into the house, so I set him down by my car. As I was walking through the front door, I heard this little voice behind me, “wanna come?”
In other words, “ummm, Mom, you aren’t going to leave me out here in the garage all by myself, are you? I want to come with you!”
African Greys are famous for their talking, but it is not just talking. The commonly used phrase “parroting it back to you” probably came from the avian ability to mimic our sounds. And there are a lot of species who don’t do much more than that. But there are a few that actually understand the action that goes with the word. An African Grey’s power of association is about the same as a four year old child. Not only can they use the right words to get what they want, they can apply the right words to a new context, like Philip did.
This is the reason a lot of people get African Greys, and it is certainly endearing, amusing, and awe inspiring. But for me, there was a deeper reason. I wanted to do more than just train Philip to use words. I wanted to communicate with him non verbally, in a way that demonstrated that I had established a connection with him, not just a vocabulary. For me, this was a significant part of unpacking design. I believe there is a component of our stewardship of nature that involves language in a much broader and more spiritual sense.
My first go at it was by accident, or rather, because of an emergency trip back to Michigan for a funeral. It was only a month or two after I brought Philip home and I was really worried about leaving him. On the way to the vet where he was going to stay, I tried talking to him. Not out loud, but in my mind and in my spirit towards him. I think, sometimes, we put ourselves in a box of spoken words. Words are powerful because of the concepts that are greater than the words themselves. They clothe them, so to speak, and make them visible. But there are other ways of communicating those same powerful concepts, and I believe we grow our spiritual capacity when we learn them.
I felt a little better by the time we got to the vet, but I wasn’t sure if anything had really landed. Therefore, I was quite pleased when I got a text before I even got home – Philip was already munching on his snacks and playing with his toys! For a bird in a brand new environment, that was amazing.
The second time I tried was under more relaxed circumstances and had immediate, measurable results. Philip was playing around on his cage and on a corded rope perch I had attached for him to hang on. A couple of times when he was hanging upside down, I put my hand under him and tried to get him to let go. He hadn’t done it yet. So, this time, I did the same thing, only I didn’t say anything, I tried to communicate to him again from my spirit. He looked straight at me and let go.
I was so thrilled, I almost dropped him. Not a good idea when you just tried to communicate boatloads of trustworthiness! That was a special moment.
But the one that will forever stand out in my memory was his ladder.
Before I brought Philip home, I bought his big cage and outfitted it with a bunch of toys. One of the accessories was a dowel ladder that I leaned up against the side of the cage so that he could easily climb up and down. So, I gave him a while to get used to his new digs. He showed a modicum of interest in the ladder. He would climb down just far enough to get back into his cage. I tried a variety of tactics to show him it was safe. I put some of his favorite treats on the rungs. He would just stretch down and grab them without actually moving down the ladder. Cheater.
So, one evening I was sitting on the floor by his cage and he was on his customary half-way point on the ladder. I could tell that he wanted to come to where I was, but he still didn’t feel safe. So, I talked to him again, non verbally. He just sat still for a few seconds, and then, lo, and behold … he started coming down! He stopped every couple of rungs to look at me, but he came all the way down to the ground and over to where I was sitting. WOW. What a moment of celebration that was!
And then it dawned on me. Probably the same way it dawns on most parents after watching their toddler take his first steps.
Lord have mercy, WHAT will he get into now?!
