I've enjoyed these responses, in a twisted sorta way. We're very willing to be trained by these 100 gram creatures, aren't we?
I'm reminded of overtired children protesting bedtime, but I'm childless, so maybe my sense of how kids protest bedtime is skewed. More seriously, pacing is a behavior frequently noted by researchers working with captive birds who've suffered severe deprivation. Of course, it's noted in most animals -- human too -- who are imprisoned in small spaces. Pete, it was your description that brought that thought to mind. I wonder if your girl's long hours of flying freedom don't make her more resentful of being caged rather than less.
Two of my birds have shown behavior that seems similar to what you've described, Karen, both rehomed parrots. Both calmed
somewhat pretty quickly. The first was the harder, an Alexandrine parrot just 18 months old, who'd been "benignly ignored." Meaning, no one treated her unkindly at all, but the family was very busy and away from home most all the time. The bird spent most of her time alone with a well-behaved dog. Her pacing was what I called "running patterns." She'd run a course along her playtop that was fairly complicated, dipping under some things, over others, around still more, and crying forlornly all the while. For maybe 20 minutes she'd follow that same precise course, despite gentle efforts I made to comfort or distract her. The next day, her pattern would be different in its details, but she'd not vary, copying each step as she circled and cried. It was very upsetting to see her this way. No one I consulted then had any advice other than being kind, trustworthy, trying to built a bond to comfort her. After 6 months, she rather abruptly stopped the behavior and her crying, and we've been great pals for a dozen years now. Dr Scott Echols speaks of this behavior as sadly characteristic of distressed captive birds. He strongly encourages foraging for food as a way to avoid boredom:
http://www.amazon.com/CAPTIVE-FORAGING- ... B000NPKEIKMy second bird to do this seems much more similar to your bird, Karen. She's an African grey who came to me at age 3, flying from the west coast to east coast and being quite panicked by that awful experience. I quarantined Zeta in my bedroom and spent a fair bit of time with her, hoping to comfort her. She arrived after 10pm, so bedtime was immediate, but the next day I was alarmed when she suddenly got very actively distressed at about 6:15. This was March, so the sun was a fireball dipping lower out windows she was facing. Friends assured me it had to be the sun upsetting her. I called "home" and was told she normally was bedded before sunset, hours earlier than my flock. So, I began feeding her dinner at 4pm and tucking her into bed by 6 -- shades closed and the cover she was used to carefully positioned to block her view of the windows. As her life here became weeks and then months, and the season's changes had the sun setting later, I gradually fed and bedded her later. Three years later, Zeta's still one of the first I put to bed, and she wakes me each morning, but her bedtime is hours later than it was, thank goodness! Tho I know little about her personality prior to rehoming, I suspect she was always a shy, sensitive grey, who was horribly frightened by the long, cross-country flight. That trauma had her anxious for awhile. She's still easily frightened.
I recommend the same gradual process of lengthening your girl's days. As I deliver Zeta to her sleep cage, she beak bops the glass of a certain picture in the hallway LOL and tiger-growls at the same place each evening. I give her a few seconds to settle while I close window shades and turn on her nightlight, talking calmly all the while. Then I rub her beak through the cagebars a few times and tell her I'm gonna turn her light off as I move to it. She's still sleeping in my bedroom, so I tell her several times that I'll see her soon, to sleep tight. Unless she flutters VERY anxiously, I pretend not to notice her distressed body language. But I call back to her reassuringly as I walk back downstairs, telling her again that I'll see her soon. I leave the bathroom light on until I come to bed, so she's got more than just the nightlight as she falls asleep.
None of my other many birds are like Zeta, so I'm learning as we get to know each other better. I hope your girl's adjustment is much quicker.