WHEN ANASTASIA Ortolano met Buddy the Congo African grey, it was love at first sight.

The 17-year-old bird lover was not discouraged in the least by the fact that Buddy was blind.

"I love 'special needs' birds more than anything," said Ortolano, who once had a blind cockatiel. "I didn't have too much experience with them, but I knew it was something I could handle if I tried."

The breeder who gave Buddy to Ortolano couldn't tell her much about his past, except that he was wild caught at least 30 years ago, had had several owners, and had probably been blind all his life. "The vet’s best guess is that during importation he could have possibly gotten tossed around quite a bit," says Ortolano.

Being blind had not improved Buddy's wild disposition over the years. All his previous owners, breeders who may or may not have succeeded in getting Buddy to procreate, had to towel or net him to avoid being bitten. That wouldn't do for Ortolano, who aimed to show Buddy a new way of life: that of a pampered pet.

Ortolano began the prickly process of making friends with the skittish bird by softly saying his name every time she entered the room. From there she progressed to gently stroking his back with a cockatoo feather.

"I had to let him know some how that I was going to touch him, so he would be prepared. Each time I would say, 'Buddy, it's okay, baby, it's okay.'" After three months of Ortolano's tender entreaties, Buddy allowed himself to be petted. He now steps onto Ortolano's palm and lets her scratch him under the wings.

While Buddy's behavior is still a bit odd – he sometimes hangs from the inside top of his cage for up to 20 hours straight – he's just like any other pet parrot, says Ortolona. He plays with his bird toys, which Ortolona believes in rotating despite his handicap. His favorite food is dried mangoes, and he talks.

Buddy gets on well with his two same-species cagemates, Bella and Smokey. And he has learned his way around the 1500-square-foot kitchen-equipped basement where the Ortolona family keeps all their birds, including three cockatoos, a blue-and-gold macaw, a Senegal, a Meyer's and a Quaker.

Midway through our conversation over Yahoo Instant Messenger, Ortolona invited me to watch Buddy on her Webcam. The jerky image showed the grey bird on a couch, moving tentatively over the lumpy terrain of a blanket thrown over the cushions. Head down, he appeared to be using his beak like a cane.

I asked Ortolona if she could demonstrate how she picks up a blind parrot. Her flat palm went out to Buddy, who in the next image could be seen on a table, then on the back of a chair.

"He’s not in the mood to be picked up," laughed Ortolona. "Sometimes he flies, but he prefers to walk." Sure enough, the next image showed Buddy strolling along the hardwood floor. "He’s now headed for the family room to sit on the rug," said Ortolona. "It will take him about 10 minutes to make it there and he will be happy."

Unseeing eyes don't limit Luna, a severe macaw. She has a good memory and enjoys exploring.

Disabled birds make good pets, too
Luckily for the Buddys of the world, many bird lovers don't require the "perfect" parrot, straight from the pet shop or breeder in mint condition. They’re happy to provide homes for birds that have had some of the shine taken off due to birth defects or injuries.

While they may be a bit more challenging to care for, these "special" birds are well worth the effort, say their owners. Disabled birds can be enjoyed for their unique personalities, just like any other parrot.

Alex Taylor says his blind severe macaw, Luna, is no more work than his two sighted birds.

"She doesn't need pity; like any bird, she wants attention, scritchies, time to play, and her food. People who are thinking about taking in a handicapped bird should remember that it's a bird first; the handicap is secondary."

A traumatic life
Like many birds, Luna became handicapped as the result of an injury. When she was a youngster, her pet sitter's children pulled out her tail feathers and stabbed her eyes with paperclips.

Luna's owners had decided to euthanize when an elderly woman offered to take her. Four homes later, Luna now lives with Alex Taylor and Tamara Gravit of Lompoc, Calif., and is not letting her traumatic past get her down.

Luna has blossomed from a "scared and pretty vicious" bird six months ago into an affectionate parrot who weaves her head to music like Stevie Wonder and loves to go visiting other people, said Taylor, a computer programmer who works at home.

A visit to a veterinary ophthalmologist confirmed Luna will never see again, but she has learned to cope. In fact, Luna gets around so well, you might not realize she's blind, said Taylor. "It didn't take her more than 15 minutes to learn her gym. Now she runs around on it like an expert."

Taylor and Gravit had the gym specially made for Luna, with more branches evenly spaced so it would be easier to climb. But Luna refused the special treatment. She chewed the extra branches "down to nothing," and now the gym looks like any other, said Taylor. Luna has such a good memory for the location of objects, Taylor moves her food and water bowls every day to "keep her on her toes."

Luna is allowed to explore the house, but likes walking around outside better, said Taylor. When set on the ground, the bird puts her beak down, spins clockwise in a circle, and then counterclockwise, "and then she'll take off running. She'll usually have a sense that something is in her way and she'll slow down. She almost never bumps into anything. Luna likes adventure."

One of the few concessions Taylor makes is speaking to Luna before touching her, "as a matter of manners." Taylor also has to keep a close eye on her interactions with Static, a Goffin's cockatoo, and Coco, an African grey. Static is fond of Luna and attempts to preen her, but Luna is not ready for the friendship and growls.

But Luna is devoted to her master. "If you tell her, 'Luna, wanna go bye-bye?,' she can't get to you fast enough," said Taylor. "She'll fall all over herself to get to you."

Fred, a one-legged gold-mantled rosella parrot, rests comfortably in a cup holder.

One-legged Fred
Fred, an adventurous gold-mantled rossela, made the mistake of landing on the cage of a larger, more aggressive bird. The trespassed-upon cockatoo was not amused and used his powerful beak to mangle Fred’s leg.

Fred's owner, Sandra of Yorkshire, England, rushed him to the veterinarian, who tried to save the leg by inserting a pin. But Fred's foot never regained circulation and the leg had to be amputated.

That was four years ago. It took Fred a while to get used to having just one leg, but now he manages fine, says Sandra. To prevent him from falling and hurting himself, she gave him a longer, lower cage, with toys and food placed so he can easily reach them.

Fred gets around on flat surfaces by hopping. He has learned to balance on his rope perches and scoot along by pushing with his leg. "I check him every day and so far there is no damage to his body," says Sandra.

And Fred has moved to a safer room; he now lives upstairs with two budgies, a cockatiel and a finch.

Froggie's fall
Even birds completely unable to walk can learn to cope. Five years ago, Lisa Jeffris took in a crippled Quaker parakeet. "Froggie," offspring of a local wild Quaker flock, had been found by a forest ranger with his legs crushed and one wing broken, apparently caused by a fall from the nest.

A veterinarian was able to set the wing but Froggie's legs proved almost useless. That does not faze him, says Jeffris. He uses his beak to swing from his cage bars and move around on the bottom grate, which keeps his bottom clean. He can't fly, but saves himself from injury by fluttering.

Froggie, a Quaker parakeet cripped by a fall, can use his legs only to prop himself up.

Froggie is a prolific talker and has become best buddies with a peach-faced conure.

"A sweet and loving bird," Froggie would have been euthanized if he had not found someone to care for him, notes Jeffris.  "Now he has a nice comfortable life with lots of love and company."

Tu-ki's challenge
One of the most horrific injuries a bird can suffer is the loss of its upper or lower beak. However, with special care even these parrots can lead happy lives.

Marlena Juniman noticed an odd-looking green-cheek conure four years ago at a local chain pet store. A store employee told her that a macaw placed in the same shipping crate had torn off the smaller bird's lower mandible. Undersized for its age, the sickly looking bird had been surviving on food soaked in its water cup.

Juniman bought the green cheek at a half price of $200 and set about improving her life. A visit to the veterinarian revealed bacterial and fungal infections caused by the injury. "The veterinarian told me not to get too attached," recalls Juniman. She named the bird anyway - Tu-ki, Hebrew for parrot.

Juniman bought a miniature Cuisinart Mini-prep food processor to prepare Tu-ki's finely diced meals. She made a special bread out of organic corn meal, yams, broccoli, fruit, nuts, Harrison's mash, eggs, applesauce and baby food and hand fed the starving bird.

"The look on her face was amazing," says Juniman. "She actually started to purr, a sound she makes even today when she's totally, blissfully happy. In one year our vet check up gave her a totally clean bill of health. She also turned out to be an amazing talker. Tu-ki has a vocabulary of over 80 words and puts together the most hilarious sentences."

You can hardly tell that Tu-ki, a green-cheek conure, is missing her lower mandible.

As a bonus, Tu-ki’s lower mandible has surprised everyone by growing back one-quarter of an inch. She can now use it to open small seeds and eat thinly sliced vegetables.

"Tu-ki had a horrible beginning, but now she's great," says Juniman.

Preens with his tongue
While being cared for by a friend, Robyn Monroe's mitred conure, Ernie, was attacked by an eclectus, a much larger bird. Ernie's entire top mandible, the maxilla, had to be removed. For two weeks Monroe visited Ernie every day at the Kensington Bird & Animal Hospital, an hour's drive away.

After coming home from the hospital, Ernie was confused. "We especially faced a challenge with his cage," said Monroe. "He couldn’t climb as he used to, and didn’t seem to realize his top beak was gone."

Six months later, Ernie is almost his old self again. He eats by scooping pellets with his lower mandible. He learned to use his tongue to climb. "He preens his feathers with his tongue and bottom beak while holding his wing in his claw," said Monroe.

Most encouraging, Ernie seems to be growing back at least part of his decapitated beak. "The vet is so amazed with his recovery," said Monroe. "She said he will probably have some type of usable beak in about two years."

Ernie still looks unusual. "People are really shocked when they see him for the first time," said Monroe. "We love him no matter how he looks."

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