a good birdy birdy: remembering Arlo the starling

There is a sad silence in the aviary.
Despite the chattering & whistles from the cockatiel and sparrow -- for the first time ever in our home, there was a distinct lack of starling talk.

Family pets have this magical quality of joining our lives and contributing to our story. When we tell their story, an important part of our own story is told. And Arlo, the darling starling, has been an integral part of our story from the very beginning. Now, 13 years later, it feels odd to no longer have him in the household mix. Our home has simply always had this charming bird as a part of it!

Thirteen years ago, my family found Arlo in my Grandma's backyard in Sedalia as a fledgling, fresh from his nest. Knowing how much I was enthralled with the book Arnie the Darling Starling, they nabbed him for me and transported him down to Springfield.

At the time I was living in "The Cabin", a drafty college rental within walking distance of Missouri State. It's doubtful that my roommates were as exuberant about this new addition to our household as I was. Clay and I were newly engaged, so Arlo was bestowed the honor of being our first official family pet. After obtaining permission from my boss (the perks of working in the field of biology), Arlo began accompanying me to work at the Limnology Lab, travelling in his little black cage as I walked back and forth to campus. He carefully observed my work, perched next to the microscopes, as I dissected, identified and photographed ostracods all summer long, occasionally squawking for me to hand feed him. There's no doubt my work on the ostracod website greatly benefited from his company and inspiration.

Over the summer I moved to another little rental location, a charmingly quaint and tiny limestone ex-carriage house, in the well landscaped backyard of an upper class estate. By now he could feed himself, so Arlo got left behind when I biked to work every day, but upon my return home he was rewarded with free range of our one roomed palace. It was at this locale that he lost a few choice feathers when, desiring to sleep in and unappreciative of his morning squawking, I unceremoniously stuck his cage out the front door and went back to bed. After a few moments of blissful quiet my sleep was again disturbed, however --this time by panicked screeches. Rushing to the door I found the resident Cooper's Hawk (whose family rearing endeavors I had been following with interest) was  attempting to obtain Arlo for his own chicks' breakfast. Thankfully Arlo only lost a bit of his dignity, and a tail feather or two. He was much quieter for the remainder of the morning.

When we moved to Idaho the day after our wedding (yes, we did that), Arlo went with us. In fact, during our 3+ year stay out in the Northwest, Arlo traveled a great many places with us, singing along with our road trip soundtracks while perched in his trusty little black cage in the back seat of our red sports car. He accompanied us on our honeymoon through the wilds of Idaho, to my birth-town of Red River (where he even joined us inside the local eatery for lunch), and on various camping trips to the draft horse shows in Sandpoint, to Portland and the Oregon coast, to the Redwoods and Crater Lake, and on many other adventures.

He taught our first cat, Peshewa, to respect birds by fiercely pecking her through the bars of his cage. He tolerated the temporary addition of Amerigo Vespucci, a house finch chick I rescued and raised until he could be re-released. (Named because he, too, explored the world with us during his stay.)

(Who's that kid in the picture? Were we really that young when we got married??)

During one Christmas break we left Arlo in the care of some church friends, who did quite a bit of hosting over the holidays. Over the next several months when we made new acquaintances around town our introductions often included the connection: "Oh! You're Arlo's owners! We met him over Christmas". He made an impression on everyone he met.

Then, in 2011, we all moved back to Arlo's home state of Missouri and began our life on the farm.




And through this whole time, Arlo graced our house with his hilarious vocabulary. Though he went through different phases of repeating his current favorite remarks, here is a rough overview of his most common phrases (all said in my voice):

"Hi birdy!"

"Hi Arlo, how you doing."

"Want some fresh water?"

"Want some breakfast?"

"He's a pretty birdy birdy"

"He's a good birdy birdy"

"Hey! Ar-LO. Quit."

"Be nice."

"It's okay birdy."

"Be right back, okay?"
"Here you go, birdy."

"Come here. Jump up."

The one thing he mastered in Clay's deeper voice was: "Elissa!"

But Clay also spent many hours teaching him to whistle like a bob white, and Arlo also picked up on whistling the first section of "I'm a little teapot", which usually ended with him wandering off distractedly into random whistled notes when he couldn't think of the ending. And then ending with a loud bob white whistle to cover up his embarassment.

He also suffered from a bad cold his whole life, or at least that's what he led everyone to believe. Early on he began impersonating me when I had head cold symptoms, and for the rest of his life he commiseratingly coughed and sneezed with everyone else. For a brief time, while living in Oregon, his sneeze warped a little bit to sound more like a ninja (hi-yah!).

Other imitated sounds included:

Microwave beeps

Phone ringing (the old fashioned landline version, shows how old he was)

The computer experiencing cell phone interference 

And, of course, the smooching noises I began making to him from day one, when trying to get him to eat. In 2008, when he was still a young bird, I wrote this post about how he often seemed to apply his phrases:

Arlo has been going on a learning kick this past week. It seems like overnight he added several new items to his already large repertoire. The problem is I don't work on specific items for him to imitate so he picks what he pleases from what we say around the house. It's like having an overactive conscience. In honor of us training our new puppy his favorite phrase is currently "No! No!". And for some inexplicable reason he likes to pair it with my name (both of these things are said in Clay's deep voice). So I get admonished frequently throughout the day with an authoritative: "Elissa! No! No!" He also added "here's your fresh water" and "need a clean cage?" to the list along with his surprisingly accurate imitation of the computer when it has cell phone interference. There are also a few bird calls but I'm not sure I know where he's getting them. One is obviously the house finches that visit our shrubbery.

Most of the time Arlo takes pleasure in running through his entire repertoire in random order (particularly while we're eating dinner or trying to watch a movie). But he also performs certain phrases in the consistently correct situations. Starlings might not be quite so dumb as most people think. =) For instance, when I come into the living room and turn the light on I'm always greeted with "Hi! How you doing?" Or sometimes just a jubilant "Hi Birdy!". When I'm working on the kitchen it's often: "What are you doing?". As soon as the microwave door is opened he's set off on a series of beeps in microwave tones. When he's offered treats from the table it's: "here you go birdy!". If I forget his feeding in the morning I'm gently reminded with a "want some breakfast?" And so it goes. It's great entertainment.

He still diligently practices his slightly off pitch "I'm a little teapot" whistle and his imitation of our imitation of a Bob White Quail (to celebrate his Missouri heritage). And my old favorite is still: "Hey! Ar-LO. Be NICE" (said in a very imposing voice). It's a little superfluous for me to address him when he gets a little too noisy because after every loud screeching fit he corrects himself with a "Arlo! Quit. Shhhhh." And then comforts himself "it's okay birdy birdy". His imitation of water trickling down the drain is very musical. He sounds very vain with his repeated "he's a good birdy birdy, yes he is!" or "such a pretty birdy birdy" (he likes saying 'birdy' so it often gets repeated numerous times). Then there's the standard "come here! jump up" and another favorite of mine "be right back, okay?". The list goes on and on.

Suffer from awkward silences in your house? I recommend a starling.

And this post contains a short video clip of him talking.

As our family grew, it was a joy to share him with the kids.

The lifespan of a starling is listed at 2-3 years (but with a longevity record of 22 years), so Arlo definitely enjoyed a long and adventurous life for a starling, reaching the ripe old age of 13. He was showing his age this winter, so his passing wasn't a big shock, but still a hard discovery, especially as we were walking out the door to go to church (we were a bit late...). 

The kids have all been super sweet about it all. Living on a farm with such a multitude of animals, one has to get used to death being a sad but accepted part of life, but their passing always leaves a mark -- especially with the long term friendships of our particular family pets.  William wrote in his journal: "The house feels empty without him, I would pay fortunes for his return." And Margaret and Amelia slaved away all day to complete this clay creation:

I've already caught myself beginning to direct a standard Arlo greeting toward the aviary before realizing what I was doing.  It's a habit that will be hard to break. He was one good birdy that will be greatly missed. "Love you, Arlo."