Arizona Exotic Bird Rescue, Inc.

By: Jan Enjada Founder and CEO of Arizona Exotic Bird Rescue, Inc.  

It was a Saturday near the end of August in 2008.  The event that unfolded brought about both a perplexing and emotionally challenging event.  Now, almost two years later I will share with you just what and who happened in to our world here at Arizona Exotic Bird Rescue. 

It was a normal swelteringly hot Southern Arizona day when I received a call from a woman saying she wanted to surrender a Mini Macaw immediately.  She added that the bird had problems and it was making her crazy.  I said I understood, as parrots aren’t the companion for everyone, and gave her our address.  Little did I know just what ‘crazy’ she meant.  Minutes later the woman showed up at our door step.  One of our volunteers and board member, Connie invited her in to the main room.  She held a tiny little Macaw that shook in her hands. 

I was sitting on the sofa next to Connies’ husband Kyle (also a board member) when the woman quickly and unceremoniously dumped the bird in my lap saying, “Here.  I don’t want it.  It makes me crazy.”  Unlike the vast majority of the birds surrendered to our rescue this person seemed relived to part with this fragile little one.  There were no tears only the look of relief on her face. 

As with all of the parrots coming in to our care we attempt to get a history on the bird.  The more knowledge we have the better we can meet the birds’ needs.  “What is the birds’ name,” I ask.  She replied, “I can’t tell you.  The bird is a demon.”  I responded with a chuckle and said, “Oh yes.  They can be little demons.  So what’s her name?”  She seemed perturbed by my asking again.  “I can’t tell you!  God told me the bird is a demon and I should kill it.  If I give you the name demons will enter all of the other birds,” she said in a matter-of-fact way.  I was starting to catch on. 

Never having had a parrot surrendered for demonic possession I needed facts.  The woman that I will now call Ann, attempted to answer my question openly and honestly from her skewed point of view.  When I inquired as to how the bird came to her she gave two totally different versions in quick secession.  The first being a young couple that she didn’t know came to her door and gave her the bird because they knew she liked birds.  They had just moved in to an apartment and their landlord wouldn’t allow them to keep it.  While I’m processing this story she came up with another.  The bird was given to her by a co-worker at the health facility where she was employed.  I quickly caught on to the name of the health care provider.  I ask her job.  She told me.  She was in fact a professional. 

I ask if she knew how old the bird is.  She didn’t but added that, ‘demons are as old as time.’  I wasn’t getting anywhere other than being grateful that I had two of my board members present.  I mean what if she received some misinformation that I’m the anti-Christ or God wanted me bumped off?  While I can be somewhat flippant telling you about this I assure you there’s nothing about this I take lightly.  While her demeanor appeared relaxed it was evident that Ann was facing some very serious mental problems. 

I pressed on.  “What can you tell me about the bird?”  It went like this: God told her the bird was a demon and she was to kill it.  She had tried to, she made a wringing motion with her hands, but it didn’t work because its neck was too stretchy.  She expressed hope that we would take up where she failed and kill the bird.  This was all said without batting an eye.  At this moment I wondered if I was in fact being a pawn in an elaborate prank.  Was this the twisted idea of one of my friends that knows how seriously I take my birds?  Was the troubled soul in front of me going to suddenly yell, “Gotcha!” and break out in laughter?  I quickly ruled that out.  Connie and Kyle looked like two deer caught in your cars headlights. 

Ann thanked me and went on her way leaving behind three very perplexed people and one sad tiny Macaw. 

The bird was about six months old in my estimation.  I named her Rebecca which means ‘one that is bonded to God.’  I knew that she had to be to have survived the trauma she endured.  (She now calls herself, “Becca Becky.”)  For the first three weeks she would sit almost motionless in her cage.  She said only two hair-raising phrases.  ‘Do you want to die today,’ and ‘I’m going to kill you.’   

As the weeks passed by Becca came to life.  Her world was now one that offered only love and joy.  She was healing and I was putting her past to rest confident in the fact that life would never again be painful for this endearing little creature.  I promised to always keep her safe and never again allow the insanity that infects some people to touch her.  

One morning about six weeks after Becca arrived I was struggling to get a cage set-up for an incoming bird and battling a case of flu when the door bell rang.  I answered.  It was the woman.  Ann was back.  I cursed myself for not locking the outer door because as soon as I opened the big door in she walked announcing she was here to volunteer.  It was just her and me, the parrots and my dogs. 

I made great effort to politely deal with the situation.  I had great compassion as well as concern for this troubled woman.  Anyone that heard life and death directives from God concerning an innocent little bird is too be pitied.  

I attempted to engage her in my project and conversation.  She seemed distracted and nervous.  She kept glancing over to where Becca was safely tucked in to her cage.  None the less she offered up information about herself.  She proceeded to tell me that she was under the care of a Psychiatrist.  When I ask her diagnosis she said she had a number of ‘over-lapping’ problems and proceeded to say “everything from, Depression to Borderline Personality Disorder to Paranoid Schizophrenia”.  She gave other details as casually as one would describe a hobby.  It was clear she wasn’t upset with my question.

After a few minutes Ann walked over to the cage that I had believe was Beccas’ safe harbor until that moment.  The bird was clearly frightened.  She jumped to the floor of the cage and cowered in the corner screaming, her wings outstretched and on her back in the position of a bird surrendering as prey.  Ann seemed not to notice the terror the small parrot was registering.  She opened the cage door and picked Becca up.  The woman walked back to near where I was standing.  It all took only seconds but to me it felt as though time had slowed to a crawl. 

She stood in the archway between the main room and the room that at that time served as my office.  It was the room where I was setting up the cage.  In her right hand she held Beccas’ feet tightly between her index finger and thumb.  Becca was screaming and struggling to escape.  The woman was hurting the defenseless little bird!  The other parrots sounded off with an alarm call in response to Beccas’ cry for help.  I immediately went over and ordered Ann to hand me Becca.  She jerked away and began reciting what can only be described as a mantra or incantation.  “I’m going to take you home.  I’m going to give you a bath.  I’m going to feed you and then I’m going to kill you.”  Again I tell her to give me Becca, this time raising my voice.  Her focus is only on the bird.  “I’m going to take you home.  I’m going to give you a bath.  I’m going to feed you and then I’m going to kill you,” she repeats over and over. 

I place my hand around the womans’ right wrist where Becca is held trapped in her fingers.  I tighten my hold on her.  There was no way Ann was getting out the door with the bird entrusted to my care.  Her chant was starting to pick-up speed.  “I’m going to take you home!  I’m going to give you a bath!  I’m going to feed you and then I’m going to kill you!”  She twisted her body in an effort to loosen my grip.  “I’m going to take you home!  I’m going to give you a bath!  I’m going to feed you and then I’m going to kill you!”   I wasn’t letting go.  Over and over I insisted she let go of the bird.  I was afraid she would kill Becca right in front me!  I was never in my lifetime so frightened.  I pressed my body against hers.  At last she realized I wasn’t going to allow her to do as she planned to little Becca.  She dropped her to the floor where Becca ran for safety under a nearby cage.  I told her to leave.  I screamed, “GET OUT OF HERE, ANN!”

I ushered the disturbed woman to the door maintaining my hold on her wrist, my body still pressed on hers.  I forced her backwards.  I had her to the door when I discovered that I had locked all four locks and was going to have to open them while attempting to keep the woman from bolting back and grabbing Becca.  She was still saying, “I’m going to take you home!  I’m going to give you a bath!  I’m going to feed you and then I’m going to kill you!”  I get the doors open.  I’m now yelling at her to leave.  She’s struggling to get away from me so she can pick-up the bird.  I manage to shove her out of the door.  She stood on the porch saying, “I’m going to take you home!  I’m going to give you a bath!  I’m going to feed you and then I’m going to kill you!”  Now she’s crying. 

She goes toward her car and I think she’s going to leave when in fact she simply was to continue expressing her intensions for Becca from the front yard.  I yelled through the window.  “Leave or I’ll call the sheriff!”  She gets in her car and pulls away from the curb.  I’m praying she’s actually leaving.  I remain steadfast in my position at the window watching when I become painfully aware that Ann had bit my left shoulder breaking the skin and drawing blood as I was pushing her outside.  My light blue top was soaked with wet blood down to my waist.  I pull the neck of my scrub top aside to reveal a perfect bloody imprint of what looks to be every tooth in her mouth.  Ann circles the block several times slowing in front of our place before disappearing. 

I retrieve Becca from the floor under cage and try to comfort her.  I held her close to my chest giving her reassurance that I will never again allow anything like that to happen to her.  She tucked her head in to the crook of my neck and closed her eyes.  Once her breathing slowed I put her in her cage.  All of the birds were upset.  I chopped up some fresh fruit and gave everyone a treat.  They needed a spot of normalcy after the terror that had just ended.

I then went in to the bathroom to assess my wound.  I gave thought to filing a report with law enforcement.  I’m shaken.  Very shaken.  Dozens of thoughts flood my mind.  What do I do next, I ask myself.  Human bite wounds are filthy.  Was she infected with any communicable diseases?  I get bit on an almost daily basis by some of the parrots I work with but haven’t been bit by a human being since Kindergarten when Sherry Miller demanded my gram cracker and I momentarily refused. 

I freely admit that there are times I’m compassionate to a fault.  Having been friends in Ohio with a woman that had a son that had been diagnosed as Paranoid Schizophrenia shortly after he graduated high school gave reason for me to carefully weigh my actions.  I had watch David go from a charming, brilliant, talented student with a scholarship to Harvard to a confused troubled young man that got messages from his television set that told him to wear a ball of aluminum foil on his head to keep the Russian government from sending down satellite beams to read his thoughts.  It was heartbreaking.  Note:  I am not a medical professional.  While I have studied about mental illness I do not claim to be qualified to diagnosis or treat said disorders.  My comments herein are based on what Ann said and how her behavior appeared to me.

I cleaned the wound several times a day and took antibiotics for two weeks.  My Tetanus shot was still effective.  It took over three months to heal for the most part.  That was a year go.  You can no longer see much evidence of the physical assault.  There are a few faint raised scars where Anns’ teeth went the deepest.  The entire event and the realization that the woman wanted to kill Becca leaves me rattled to this day. 

Becca was thriving!  The feathers she had chewed were coming back.  She is totally and completely thrilled with her life.  Her vocabulary increased.  The world was revolving around her and she was filled with joy, trust, and happiness.  She’s a funny little clown that is convinced that anyone that arrives at the rescue is there to see her. 

Near the end of April 2009 I received an e-mail from Ann, stating the following: “Did you kill my little bird.  You should kill my little bird.  You should send me flowers and a card.  A real card not from the internet.”  She signed it, “Love, Ann”.  A chill went through me raising the hair on my arms and the back of my neck.  While I saw her car in front of the rescue numerous times driving by slowly or parked in front of the next door neighbors this message was her first direct contact with me.  I wrote back and ordered her to stop contacting us in any manner.  I hoped she would just go away. 

That wasn’t to be the case.  Half way through 2010 Ann is still exhibiting stocking behavior.  Now she has bumped up her harassment.  She is posting on free internet public forums.  A well known public forum is just one she seemed to favor.  The Community/Pets section under Parrots/Birds was where she spewed her hate and slander.  Her mind had taken her on a flight of viscous fantasy.  Warning Exotic Bird Rescue, or something along that line she titles her messages of hate.  Not a word was true in fact.  But in Anns’ twisted mind I’m sure her words took on a reality of their own.  Short of giving our exact physical address and full name she made clear that it was Arizona Exotic Bird Rescue and me that was her target. 

Supporters of our rescue would respond to the posts via e-mail to inquire just whom she was referring to in her rant.  Time after time she would write back divulging full details.  She would go on and on attacking us from every angle.  I wrote to the publisher (Ann) of the post from e-mail addresses not associated with the rescue.  Sure enough it was Ann.  It was her e-mail addresses and signed with her full name and in some cases her phone number in her reply.  She would slam us and tout the joys of another rescue where she apparently volunteered.  Her raging posts would get bombarded and flagged for removal by people that love our charitable work here serving the avian community.  The webmaster of the forum would pull her message. 

Over and over, again and again it would be the same scenario.  Ann would post.  Loyal adoptive parrot parents, our fans, and our volunteers would contact the person posting to inquire as to what rescue she was referring too.  She would write back blasting us and singing the praises of what she considers the only “real” rescue.  Her internet messages were increasing in intensity and venom.  Here almost to two years after encountering this woman she continues to assault the avian rescue I have dedicated my life too as well as myself, and our volunteers. 

Ann is now fully aware that I am weary of her problems becoming mine.  She knows that numerous people that responded to her tirades are aligned with Arizona Exotic Bird Rescue, Inc.  Common sense overrides my overly compassionate self.  I should have allowed the powers that be to have intervened two years ago.  I should have pressed charges when she sunk her teeth in to my shoulder. 

She has picked up her affronted with false complaints to law enforcement.  They have to respond only to find what we do here is nothing short of amazing.  Ann has gained some following and support of her own.  There are people out there that are all to ready to be lead by the drama expressed without digging deeper.  I noticed several recent posts on a popular public forum soliciting help in starting a 501(c3) avian rescue in the East valley.  That’s Ann and her buddies…  It exists only in their over active imagination. 

As for Becca,   She’s in a safe place.  She is protected from any harm.  Some of her time is spent as a therapy bird.  Who better to lift ones spirit and heal a sad heart than this little Macaw that has not only survived but thrived.  She is still an essential part of my world.  She has touched so many lives and continues to be an immeasurable blessing. 

I frequently make up personal songs for our birds.  Becca embraces my special gift and sings along to her tune while she dances.  No one can resist her charm!  Even the other parrots take delight in her antics.

This isn’t where our story ends.  This is just a place for us to pause.  Keep Becca in your prayers.  Help us to help these amazing parrots.  Please understand that certain elements of this true story have been changed.  The womans’ name, the names of our board members present when the parrot was surrendered, the name of the bird, and the breed of bird have been changed to protect all of them.  The real name I gave ‘Becca’ holds the same meaning.  All other details are right-on real. 

Thank you for giving of your time in reading this account of what continues to be a challenging life changing event for all associated with Arizona Exotic Bird Rescue, Inc. 

This factual account of the events contained herein are exclusively owned by the author, Jan Enjada, the founder and CEO of the non-profit avian sanctuary rescue, Arizona Exotic Bird Rescue, Inc.  It cannot be copied or duplicated in part or in whole without written permission.  ©  - June 13rd 2010

To Be Continued...

Winged Blessings,

Jan

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