Don’t Trust Polly: The Danger of Labeling Parrots

How our assumptions about behavior can determine a parrot’s future

By Father Don Scott
Chloe Sanctuary for Parrots and Cockatoos

Bruno Is a Dweeb

There is a wonderful children’s song by Tom Chapin called “Don’t Play with Bruno, Bruno Is a Dweeb,” from his album Moonboat. It has long been one of my favorites. Children’s songs are often favorites with our fids (feathered kids), too. The song tells the story of Bruno, a boy whom Shirley and Sue have labeled a “dweeb.” They discourage other children from playing with him. Bruno, meanwhile, keeps digging and discovers remarkable things, including a bone, a tractor, and a lost city. Eventually the girls want to become his friends. What changed? Bruno was still Bruno. What changed was how they perceived him.

My mentor, Dr. Susan Friedman, emphasized an important lesson during the Living and Learning with Animals professional course: when we label a living creature, we risk forcing that individual into a mold of our own making.

I know something about that. As a child, I was labeled “fat boy.” That label followed me and made it difficult to form friendships. Other children did not necessarily see Don, the individual. They saw the label attached to him. I remember what that felt like. It breaks my heart to see the same process applied to parrots, especially because they cannot explain themselves in words or challenge the stories we tell about them.

The Mean and Evil Bird

How often have you heard someone describe a parrot as mean, evil, vicious, or aggressive? Sometimes people even compare a bird to Hannibal Lecter. A bird bites, lunges toward a hand, or threatens someone approaching its cage. Almost immediately the labels begin: “He’s a mean bird.” “She hates people.” “He’s vicious.”

Before long, the description becomes part of the bird’s reputation. Other people treat the bird according to what they have been told, sometimes without observing the behavior themselves. The consequences can be devastating: less social interaction, fewer opportunities to learn, less consideration for adoption, and in extreme cases even euthanasia.

Even Chloe, the bird for whom our sanctuary was named, was once labeled a “starter bird,” supposedly a stepping stone to a bigger, more impressive bird. That label reduced a living, thinking, feeling individual to an ornament. Chloe was never a starter bird. She was Chloe, an individual with her own history, behaviors, and needs.

Learning to Observe Instead of Judge

Dr. Friedman taught us to examine our assumptions carefully. Instead of accepting labels, we were encouraged to observe behavior, describe what actually happened, and develop hypotheses about the environmental conditions influencing it.

A functional assessment involves gathering information about behavior and its circumstances. We examine the antecedent (what happened before), behavior (what the animal actually did), and consequence (what happened afterward). From these ABC observations, we can develop a working hypothesis about the behavior’s function. A functional analysis, in the experimental sense, goes further by systematically manipulating conditions to test hypotheses about the variables maintaining behavior. Observing and forming a reasonable explanation is not the same as experimentally demonstrating why the behavior occurs.

Instead of “That bird is mean,” we might say, “When a person reaches toward the cage, the bird moves forward with its beak open.” Now we have something we can investigate.

Meeting Pepe

One day I had an opportunity to observe Pepe, a bird several people had described as mean and evil. RJ and I needed to towel him for a veterinary examination. As we attempted to catch him, I paid attention to what he actually did. Outside his cage, Pepe repeatedly moved away from us. He squawked and turned away when approached. When I placed a towel around him, he twisted his body in an apparent effort to escape. After being placed in the carrier, he moved to the point farthest from me. During these encounters outside his cage, I did not observe him attempting to bite.

Pepe was not approaching us to attack. He was moving away. Running away does not prove a bird will never bite, and biting does not establish that a bird is mean. But his behavior suggested that escaping or avoiding unwanted contact might be important to understanding his responses. Rather than asking why Pepe was evil, I began asking what was happening in his environment that made these behaviors likely.

A Different Picture Emerges

Once inside the carrier, Pepe stopped moving away from me. His feathers rested close to his body, and I did not observe eye pinning when I spoke to him. He looked toward me without retreating. Those observations suggested a change in his response, although posture and eye movements alone cannot establish an animal’s emotional state.

I suspected that some of his reported aggression might relate to particular circumstances, possibly including interactions around his cage. At the veterinary examination, I opened the carrier. Pepe emerged and perched on top. His breathing appeared regular, his feathers smooth, and his gait slow and deliberate. When the veterinarian attempted to towel him, he ran again without turning back to bite. Eventually he climbed onto my arm and shoulder and sat for a while on the back of my neck. I was a complete stranger to him.

The Bird Behind the Label

After the examination, at RJ’s home, Pepe stepped onto a stick when I offered it. At first he looked from side to side, monitoring his unfamiliar surroundings and the rather strange person handling him. I waited. When he appeared less vigilant, I offered my arm and he stepped up. He moved close to my chest, then gently chewed a button off my shirt, occasionally looking up at me. I held him for approximately ten minutes before returning him to his cage, which he entered. Apparently my button was more threatening than I was.

It would be tempting to replace his old labels with “sweet,” “loving,” or “adorable.” Yet those are labels too. What happens if he bites tomorrow? Wouldn’t it be better to say what he actually did? Pepe stepped onto my arm, remained close to my chest, chewed a button from my shirt, and returned to his cage. Those observations give us useful information without pretending to describe his entire personality.

What About Cage Aggression?

Based on reports of previous biting, I suspected some of Pepe’s responses might be associated with people approaching or reaching into his cage. People often call this “cage aggression,” but that label does not tell us why the behavior occurs. A bird might lunge because previous experiences taught it that lunging makes a person withdraw. It might be avoiding unwanted handling, protecting access to something valuable, or responding to another condition.

A functional assessment could examine whether Pepe lunged when someone approached, entered the cage, changed food bowls, or tried to remove him, and what happened afterward. Did the person withdraw? Did an interaction end? These details matter because behavior is influenced by its consequences.

If reaching into the cage regularly produced lunging, we could change the conditions. Rather than repeatedly placing our hands where defensive responses were likely, we could teach Pepe to move voluntarily to a perch or target. We could reinforce approaching, stepping onto it, or moving to a station, and service food and water bowls when he was comfortably elsewhere. The objective would not be to dominate Pepe, but to arrange the environment so that cooperative behavior was easier and worthwhile for him.

A Reputation Can Become a Death Sentence

The stories told about Pepe had become part of his identity in other people’s minds. I doubt anyone who called him mean or evil intended harm. Most were probably describing experiences as they understood them. But good intentions do not prevent harmful consequences.

When we call a bird vicious, stubborn, jealous, or spiteful, we may feel we have explained its behavior. In reality, we may have stopped looking for an explanation. The label becomes the answer. Once we believe we have the answer, we may stop asking questions.

Every Bird Is a Study of One

At the time of my encounter with Pepe, I believed appropriate training might make him a good candidate for adoption within a relatively short period. That was my assessment then, not a guarantee. Responsible adoption would also require evaluating the prospective adopter’s ability to understand Pepe’s behavior, recognize his needs, and continue appropriate training. Training the person is every bit as important as training the bird.

Each parrot arrives with an individual learning history. Experiences that influence one bird may have very different effects on another. Every bird is a study of one. That makes our work more demanding, but deeply satisfying. We are not simply trying to eliminate unwanted behavior. We are trying to understand the individual in front of us.

The Hardest Labels to Remove Are Our Own

During my studies with Dr. Friedman, I spent approximately three weeks of intense work examining my own tendency to label people and animals. It was not easy. I discovered how quickly my mind could turn a few observations into a sweeping judgment, and how difficult it was to stop. I still catch myself doing it. Sometimes I recognize the label immediately; other times it takes a day or two.

Learning to observe behavior objectively requires continual practice. We must examine our assumptions, question our conclusions, and remain willing to change our minds when new evidence appears. Pepe was not the frightening character others had described. He was an individual whose behavior changed with the circumstances.

Before deciding that a parrot is mean, evil, stubborn, or impossible, ask whether we have truly observed the bird or merely accepted a story about it. Otherwise, we may find ourselves repeating Shirley and Sue’s mistake. We won’t play with Bruno. Because Bruno is a dweeb.