Flying to the rescue of parrots in distress
Washington Weekend
By Sue Darcey
August 9, 2007

Brian Wilson shares a quiet moment with one
of his parrots in their home in Damascus, Md.
For parrot rescuers and their helpers, there is no such thing as a slow day. There are always baby parrots to be hand-fed, wings to be clipped, or another bird in need of a new home.
Just ask Brian Wilson of the Wilson Parrot Foundation of Damascus, or Ruth Hanessian, president of the Animal Exchange, an avian-centric pet shop in Rockville. They, along with Phoenix Landing of Arlington, are some of the very few bird rescuers in the region who specialize in saving and rehabilitating the big, smart, engaging and colorful creatures we call parrots.
It's no small job. These birds of the order Psittaciformes — including not just parrots but macaws, conures, parakeets, budgerigars, lovebirds, parrotlets, cockatoos and cockatiels, most of them native to Central and South America (with some types hailing from Asia, Africa and Australia) — are among the most intelligent, conversational and social of birds.
At least that's what they'll tell you.
"They will demand and take as much attention as you can give them," Ms. Hanessian says.
A lifetime commitment
Why the need for such good Samaritans? These exotic birds fetch $7,000 to $12,000 within the pet trade, and their owners don't simply abandon them or casually hand them over to the pound.
But parrots and their kin are high-maintenance pets that require a lifelong commitment: Some of the larger birds can live to 100 years in captivity, and their smaller cousins to at least 20. Any potential big-bird owners should think twice about casually taking on a member of the parrot or cockatoo families as a pet, the specialists say.
And it's when the unwary owners have fallen down on the job — by tiring of the care the demanding birds need or by getting fed up with annoying antics that the humans themselves have encouraged, or by dying — that the rescuers come into the picture.
Mr. Wilson gained a word-of-mouth reputation as a man who understood parrots in his days as a firefighter with the Laytonsville Fire Department, when he would use his own pet parrots as actors and visual aids in fire- and gun-safety talks to children at daycare centers.
Now he's the go-to person for parrot care, and has acquired his flock of parrots, macaws and cockatoos from a range of owners who couldn't cope.
One parrot, a Congo African Grey whose owners complained it would not let them touch it, came to him completely plucked and with a deformed beak. Another, a biter and screamer that had been returned to the pet store where it was originally purchased, was passed on to Mr. Wilson by the store's owner.
Others arrive for a variety of reasons: allergies, household moves, changing family circumstances of any kind.
For Ms. Hanessian, who earned a degree in ornithology from Cornell University, the experience is similar: The parakeets, lovebirds, parrotlets and cockatiels she currently looks after were brought into her shop by families who could no longer manage them.
Both have developed techniques of dealing with misbehaving birds that, in some cases, approximate the way they might handle an unruly child.
"The worst thing you can do is overreact when a parrot bites you, because then he will think he's gotten your attention and will repeat the behavior," Mr. Wilson says, showing off two arms crisscrossed with nicks and scars left over from training sessions.
"When the parrot realizes he's not getting an excited reaction from you when he bites, then he soon becomes bored and stops the behavior," he says.
Back to life
For Mr. Wilson, the birds have been a lifesaver.
He started his foundation, which rehabilitates and finds new homes for the big birds in the parrot family, while recovering from a car accident in October 1995 in Silver Spring that paralyzed his right side, wrecked some of his cognitive functions and left him with a lingering loss of muscle function — enough so that he had to retire early from his firefighting job.
Worse, the accident happened as he was returning with his birds from one of his safety talks: every bird in the car died save one.
But he had that one, Daisy, a blue and gold macaw who is still with him, and he had the others that frustrated owners kept giving him, and he used his work with them to bring himself back.
Now he's made their rehabilitation his life's calling.
"The birds helped me to talk and walk again," he says simply. "Now I'm giving back to them."
Mr. Wilson has trained most of his birds to talk, to "sing opera" or to clamber onto strangers' outstretched arms and hands, then quietly pose for photographs perched on peoples' shoulders or chests. He takes them to nursing homes or to outdoor festivals, where he entertains people in exchange for a take-home photo they can buy, or for a donation to his rescue and rehabilitation foundation.
To make sure his parrots and macaws find good homes, he usually tells anyone who is interested in adopting one of his birds to volunteer at the foundation for several hours a week for three to six months, until they get to know the specific birds and how to handle them properly.
This way, Mr. Wilson says, "the bird picks its new owner" as often as the volunteer chooses the bird.
One of Mr. Wilson's helpers, Betty Brown, a 53-year-old Mount Airy resident, has volunteered at the foundation since February. She is particularly interested in a cockatoo named Shilo, who responds excitedly to her by bouncing up and down and raising his white and yellow crest.
Anna Rositzky, a 60-year-old resident of Damascus who helps Mr. Wilson at the foundation, owns several sulfur-crested cockatoos, varying in age from 6 to 15.
"They sleep with me; they eat popcorn with me while we watch my favorite television show; and I'm training them to dance," she says.
One of Ms. Rositsky's cockatoos, "Cuddles," even likes to accompany her to local drive-through restaurants, where the bird loudly requests "french fries."
A request for such a special treat should not be denied, Mr. Wilson says.
"As long as you give the birds quality care and everything they love and desire, they'll give you back tenfold," in love and companionship, he says.
The trade
Time was when these birds were captured in the wild and imported. That has changed since passage of the Wild Bird Conservation Act of 1992, a measure designed to stem a trade that was obliterating exotic birds.
Even now some species are threatened, endangered or reproducing in very low numbers. For example, fewer than 3,000 Hyacinth Macaws, a Brazilian bird of dazzling blue, survive.
According to Ms. Hanessian, who both buys and sells such birds in addition to the ones she's been given, the import route to parrot ownership has almost completely shut down.
Importing the birds "requires a lot of documentation," she says, a 30-day quarantine period, and in some cases bribery of local officials in the birds' country of origin.
Today, she says, these birds "are almost exclusively bred in captivity."
Even so, the birds' value is such that if those found escaped or wandering are not picked up by humans who have their best interests in mind, they will probably be sold.
They may be shuttled around from dealer to dealer, middlemen who do not really care about finding the bird a good home, but who are only interested in making quick money. With some of the birds — such as the Hyacinth Macaw — bringing top dollar in pet stores, it is easy to see why.
"I understand that in the past, if the Humane Society in Montgomery County advertised that they had found a parrot, by the next day they had received 65 phone calls from people, each claiming that they've lost it," Ms. Hanessian says.