“Good morning, Squeaks!” said Momanita. “Should we have Cheerios to start our day?”
Momanita shook the cereal box. The oat circles rattled me awake.
“Cheerios, right after a belly rub. I itch.”
To other hootmans this sounded like squeals and whistles, but not to Momanita. She MOSTLY understood cockatiel speak. I MOSTLY understood hootman talk.
“You’re molting, Squeaks,” said Momanita.
Momanita picked a long slender feather from the bottom of my rolly cage. It belonged on my wing.
“Not again! I HATE molting.”
Momanita stroked my back. It felt good.
“I see your new pin feathers. They’re spiky. I also see that you’re crabby. You’re moody when you molt.””
“I am NOT moody and crabby!”
“Did I mention stubborn, too?”
After fluffing my feathers, new and old, I retreated to the corner of the cage. I didn’t like Momanita much today. I didn’t like myself right now either.
“I wonder if we learned more about molting, you would be less crabby and I’d be more understanding.”
When Momanita wondered, she thought of questions.
When she thought of questions, she looked for answers.
When she looked for answers, she needed my help.
I climbed out of my rolly cage into my writing nest. Momanita climbed the stairs to HER writing nest. She scooted her chair to the computer and tapped the keyboard. She opened my door so I could climb to the writing nest roof, but I didn’t feel like it. I stayed inside.
Birds Of A Feather
“All birds molt,” said Momanita, “but not at the same time or for the same reasons.”
Knowing I wasn’t alone helped.
“When birds first hatch, they look fuzzy. The fuzz is down. After a while, feathers replace the down. The nestlings don’t look like their parents. That molt comes later. The new feathers that grow is the adult plumage.”
“That’s how the robin baby loses his speckles.”
Baby robin splashed in our backyard pond while his mom watched from the branch above.
“During the breeding season, some birds grow colorful feathers,” said Momanita. “The scarlet tanager male is bright red in the spring. This shows that he’s healthy. After his babies hatch, he’ll grow olive colored feathers.”
“My new feathers are the same color as my old feathers, but in better shape.”
I flapped my wings to try out the feathers. I still couldn’t fly, but they stayed put.
Skin In The Game
“Snakes molt, too,” said Momanita.
“Snakes have feathers?”
I didn’t like snakes – especially snakes with feathers.. I climbed to the roof of my writing nest to watch for flying snakes. If they had feathers them might be able to fly. Flying snake are scary!
“Snakes don’t have feathers or fly, but they still molt. They shed their skins as they grow- sometimes a dozen times a year. Their skin becomes tight and dull. They rub against a rock, tear it, and crawl out of it. The new skin must feel better.”
“I’m happy my feathers only fall out a few at a time..”
.Skeleton Crew
“Just as birds grow new feathers and snakes grow new skins, crabs grow new shells,” said Momanita. “The shells are their exoskeletons, skeletons on the outside. Exoskeletons give support and protection.”
“MY skeleton is on the INSIDE giving me support.”
“Crabs outgrow their shells so they shed them. The new shells are soft and don’t defend against predators. The crabs hide during this time.”
“Molting is itchy, but if I didn’t molt, I wouldn’t have new feathers in good shape.”
“Should we write about molting?” asked Momanita.
“Let’s write about how we all need change even if it itches.”
To other hootmans this sounded like squeals and whistles, but not to Momanita. She MOSTLY understood cockatiel speak. I MOSTLY understood hootman talk.
After climbing down the cage side and scooting up Momanita’s arm, I dictated while she typed.
Check out Momanita’s book OPERATION HOPPER.
Momanita and I read about molting. You might want to read about molting, too.
Anita Borgo 