Puck's Lifestyle

Puck was a hyperactive bird who always appeared in motion, whether feeding, kissing or fighting his plastic penguin (Penny Penguin), grooming, singing or talking. This 16-hour daily whirlwind of activity was sparsely interspersed with three or four mini-naps, each lasting a few minutes. Often Puck even talked when his head was tucked under his feathers in the sleep posture. We have a video of this strange sight! At 10 or 11 p.m. he was still in overdrive, and the only way to stop his engine was to turn off the lights.

For several years the cage hung from the ceiling in a corner of the kitchen. Next to it was a sliding glass door which opened onto the deck and rear garden. Above the cage was a philodendron-type plant which Puck occasionally climbed into and performed acrobatic feats upon. Attached to his open perch door was a plastic penguin whose torso could be pushed up and down. Inside the cage hanging close to the door was a mirror, positioned so that he could view his reflection while he was perched on the door. This was where he spent most of his time, alternately talking to the penguin and the mirror. He frequently mimicked our conversations, switching between a bass pitch (supposedly Mark’s voice) and a high girlish pitch (supposedly my voice). He seemed to act out scenes like children do when they play house alone - - taking on the roles of the adults in their lives. Talking rapidly all the time, one role would be directed to the penguin, as he tapped it repeatedly, while the other role involved dashing to the mirror, and talking to it with his second voice. Back and forth he went for 15 or 20 minutes at a time. These “conversations” and bodily movements were hilarious, causing some observers to double up in laughter, even if they couldn’t understand all of the words spoken. You will see in many of the quotes throughout this recollection that Puck was almost always engaged in an imaginary dialogue with other “characters,” whether they be Penny Penguin, Beetlebug, Beetle, Mommy (me), Mark or another bird.

There were three clothespins attached to the outside of the cage, all of which Puck used as perches. Two were favorite speaking podiums, but when he was on either of them and in a talking mode, he faced the wall, his back to us. I surmised that he didn’t want any visual distractions while he chattered away! Puck was a conservative flier during his first couple of years, generally remaining on his cage or climbing the plant vines above it. He would fly to us in the evenings, always landing on our heads. Then he loved to hang down from our hair, looking into our eyes or pecking away at eyeglasses. Occasionally he just flew a fast circle around the kitchen, landing right back on the cage. Even less frequently, he dove to the floor where he liked to poke around chair legs and/or investigate Blue, the family dog.

In his third year he became more exploratory in the house and developed several favorite perching areas: the dividing sill of a kitchen window located over the sink, the top of a sideboard in Mark’s office, a commercial perch placed in front of a full-length dressing mirror, and the back of a rocking chair in the living room. At any of these sites he could be found talking for several hours a day.

Puck did not enjoy being cuddled or kissed, although he would readily come on our fingers and listen attentively while we spoke to him. He much preferred to take the initiative in establishing human contact, and that involved his touching us rather than we touching him. During the first three years of his life, Puck was very circumspect with visitors, never expressing an obvious interest in them. That changed in his fourth year when he selectively flew to some people, or accepted a proffered finger to hop onto. Of course, like all creatures, he actively avoided interacting with a few individuals, and no encouragement from us could dissuade his decision on these matters.