Meet
-- our Quaker parrot, who appeared in our backyard one day in early 1998. His wings were partially clipped and he knew how to step up, but we know nothing more of his background. We think he may have been a year or two years old, and he is a DNA-sexed male.
	He is the "sentinel" bird of our flock; meaning that when he sounds the alarm ("AWK! AWK! AWK!"), the other birds freeze. They can tell, though, when he's crying "wolf" and will ask him, "What's the matter, Oats? It's all right."
Oats enjoys taking very splashy baths in a baking dish and gets water everywhere! He puts his whole face in the water and comes up spouting water out his nares!
A typical Quaker, he busies himself with his toys and fighting with his bell, climbing up and down his ladder, and rearranging the items in his cage.
Mazi, our African Grey, is his pal and Oats always wants to be wherever Mazi is. Oats is the best pilot of our flock and when his primaries are grown in, we let him fly in the house a bit. He recently began abusing that privilege (dive-bombing me!) and so now has a wing trim that prevents him from maintaining altitude.

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