It starts with a sneeze.
That is Simon’s first signal that he wants a bath.
If you look at the little green Quaker parakeet after he sneezes, you’ll likely find him sitting in his water dish, dunking his head and letting the water bead up and roll down his back in droplets.
He will fluff out his feathers so that he resembles a green fuzzy ball with a head rather than an actual bird. In this exaggerated state, he stomps in the water.
It’s a mess, really.
Water goes everywhere. What Simon doesn’t stomp out of the bowl gets spilled when he shakes out his feathers while still standing in his tiny tub. Stand within a few feet of his cage while he baths and you will get a bit of a shower yourself.
The process is exceptionally cute, but it’s not the way I prefer to for Simon to get clean.
When he starts splashing around (and at times when I have a little extra time in my routine), I take Simon into the shower.
There, the water’s warm and there are no remnants of water-logged Cheerios floating in his bathtub.
Suction-cupped to the wall of our shower is a device that some think looks like a handicapped bar, but much smaller. This PVC pipe-style device is coated with a non-slip grip and swings out from the wall to make a nice, easy perch for Simon.
Sometimes he resists the shower, fluttering up to the curtain rod where he can sit and watch me wash my hair. But more often than not, he steps onto his shower perch.
Who doesn’t like a nice, warm shower? For Simon and Quakers like him, baths are essential. A good soaking provides moisture to the skin and feathers. It promotes good preening behaviors so Quakers take care of their vivid green mane.
In the wild, Simon and his companions would bathe every day, if not several times a day.
One of the joys of this process for me is when we get out of the shower. Simon expects me to wrap him up in his soft, fluffy towel.
We started that shortly after Simon came to live with me. He panicked whenever his veterinarian would wrap a towel around him during his visits.
His doctor at the time encouraged me to start towel drying him as a way to get him used to being wrapped up in a comfortable setting rather than only seeing a towel when the doctor decides to make him spread his wings for a clip.
Simon gets swaddled up like a baby and I hold him.
Sometimes he gnaws on the fuzz. But mostly he just enjoys the warmth of my hands through the towel.
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