The Poop Tells The Scoop . . .

A nice, big, normal first poop of the morning.  Ewwww!

Last year, I got really sick. So sick, I had to have X-rays. Mom said my doctor told her I had an enlarged spleen, because of a bad infection, so I had to take some pretty yucky medicine twice a day for a lonnnnng time to get better. But ever since then, Mom and I have gotten into a weird daily habit. When I wake up, Mom puts a piece of newspaper on top of my cage, underneath my play gym perch. So, I go up there and,... er... go... up there. (Not that I mind. It sure keeps the bottom of my cage a lot cleaner.) And then Mom LOOKS at it and tells me if she thinks it's a good poop or not.

See, I'm a bird, and we know that other birds will pick on us if we show that we don't feel well. So we hide it from everyone. There's no use trying to reason with us, either. It's instinct. Mom hates that I'm like that, but I can't change. It's just what my instincts tell me to do. So, she gets around it by looking at my poop after I go. If it looks good, it means I probably feel good. If it doesn't look good, it could mean I drank too much water or took a bath or ate some fruit that was starting to turn, or I could be sick.

The next thing Mom does is sit me on my scale to see what I weigh. I'm usually 78-80 grams:

 



I'm a little light on the scale here, and that made Mom watch me really closely for a few days to see if there were any other symptoms of illness. There was nothing to worry about, this time. I had woken up at 4:12 the morning before, and Mom didn't get home on time, either, so I just went to bed before I had eaten enough food for the day.

It made Mom worry enough about me to give me some peanut butter and honey cream of wheat. Hmmmm. Maybe I should eat less all the time, so she gives me some more of it? I love that stuff! It tastes so GOOD.

Mom got a food scale for me after she saw the one the doctor used to weigh me. She wants me to make sure you know not to get this particular scale, though, because it she says she only paid $20 and she got what she paid for, which wasn't much. (I agree. The metal platform I'm standing on comes unstuck from the sticky tape strips that are supposed to hold it onto the base. Mom has to stick it back on every time we go to use it.) I'm just glad I don't have to go in the critter cage anymore.  I hate that tiny, clear box I used to have to go in. Once I realized that Mom just wanted me to step on the scale, I did it. Problem, Phoebe-solved!

The expert tips today are:

1. Look at our poop every time you get a chance, because we won't show you when we're not feeling well, until we're too sick to hide it anymore. It might be gross to scope out our droppings, but you should do it anyway, because it could save our lives.

2. Get a food scale (a better one than this one.... Mom likes the Weight Watcher food scale best) and use it to weigh us. Know what we should weigh for our species, and weigh us pretty regularly, to know what is normal for us as individuals. Mom calls me her Chunky Monkey, because SOME wannabe runway model green cheek conures only weigh 60 or 70 grams, and I usually weigh close to the top of my weight range. (I can't help it. She always gives me such good food!)

Also, while it can be as bad for us birds to be overweight as it is for humans, it's okay to be at the top of the normal weight range, because then, if we DO get sick, there's more time for a doctor to help us get better. If we're at the bottom of the range, there's less time, because we birds can lose a lot of weight, really FAST, when we don't feel well.

Until next time, PTH fans!



 

Does this scale make my butt look fat?