I am just finding this whole dynamic so mysterious. I made up with him this time, as I think was much the case last time, by letting him come out of the cage on his own, repeatedly approaching him while he was on the playtop until he was comfortable with having his head scritched, and then it was like a light switch went off and he was totally back to his sweet lovable self. I was lucky that I was still sick (if you can call that lucky) and was at home yesterday and could devote most of the day to interacting with him.
ptuga72 wrote:Do you know how the petsitter is handling him? Like, does she take him out for a lot of time, or only a little?
She is a professional service (actually there are two of them) and the periods out would be relatively short. I believe she typically would let them out first thing on a morning visit before doing the other "chores", would interact with the kitties a little bit, interact with the birds a little bit, and then put them away and go. Same routine at the afternoon visit. So probably only a half hour or so at each visit. But there are occasional days he only does a little better with us!
Does she take Scooter out before or after Scotty?
On this trip, I gather Scotty declined to emerge, but Scooter was willing to step up and be handled. She was only taking care of them from Tues Pm to Thurs AM, my hubby was in charge prior to that.
Does she do things exactly like you? Does she look like you at all?
I'm sure she DOESN'T do things exactly like me. The routine is different when we are gone, but the basic needs are met. Her hair color is not dissimilar, but other than that I don't think we have anything in common. When her partner is involved, she has my body type, but not my hair color or other features.
I know that it is hard to keep him in his cage, but if it is obvious that he doesn't want to come out I wouldn't force it.
It wasn't even an option for a while there. It's not like I'd open the door and he'd retreat, it was like I'd open the door and he'd come running to attack. I'm sure if he were doing that to the pet sitter, she would tell us. It isn't subtle. On a few occasions my hubby let him come out on his own, and was then able to pick him up. He handed him over to me several times, and he would come over, but then fluff up and attack. The lip wound came from such a hand over... I thought he had actually ceased being in attack mode, but he really wasn't. I actually yelled at hubby for this, finally! But that's another story.
I think the next trip, I may ask her deliberately NOT to handle him at all and see what happens. There are too many variables to debug the whole thing.
This does seem to have some degree of territorial component, in the sense that while he was in "angry" mode, he appeared to be defending his tent and the cage as a whole against me. Any approach would lead to fluffing and angry muttering and he spent a higher than normal fraction of time in the tent. So I did, that last day, take out the old tent and replace it with a new, different one (GCCs are full-time cavity dwellers, so I don't want to leave him with no option to sleep in an enclosed space). From the cage top, he watched me do this. Our reconciliation was subsequent to that. However, he seemed unwilling to go inside the new one at bedtime, so I swapped it back out again for the old familiar configuration , and that in no way diminished his renewed affection. I have no way of knowing if the temporary rearrangement had any effect or not. On the prior occasion the overall scenario was very similar, but I didn't do a tent swap.
One thing that puzzles me -- maybe those of you who have had birds for a long time can help me understand this better -- is the suddenness of the shift when it happened. For three days he was a ball of beak and fury, taking no prisoners, relenting not an iota from morning to night. All of a sudden, when the guard came down, it was obvious that he'd snapped back to normal. Not a gradual process at all, but a state transition, steam to ice. Like BING! the penny dropped. Or someone flipped a switch. It was almost as if I suddenly metamorphosed from the big bad wolf into little red riding hood... is it possible he only recognizes me in a certain context, and somehow that context needs to be recreated before he knows me again? I'd sung him to sleep two of the previous three nights... it wasn't as if all normal patterns were absent.
Or maybe I should be having him evaluated for a brain tumor?
At any rate, he's back to being his sweet self, and that sweet self is very sweet indeed. When he snuggled on his back in my hand and almost went to sleep, I almost cried.

s. Can't live with them, can't live without them?