Getting off the adoption merry-go-round
Some organizations decide to keep all of the birds they rescue, becoming permanent sanctuaries. Though an expensive solution, they find it preferable to hassling with opportunistic applicants or placing their parrots in homes where they may be neglected again.

Failed placements soured Brian Wilson on adoption. Several people who took birds from him "promised they would maintain the bird in the manner in which it was rehabilitated, yet immediately they started breeding it to make money," he says. Despite contracts the adopters signed, Wilson was unable to retrieve the birds.

Evergreen's Michael Lockey says he would not trust most of the people who ask his organization for a parrot "with a polywog." Most of his 1500 permanent residents have been through a succession of owners and have "lost their ability to cope," he claims.

"What do you want us to give up? Paco, our blind Quaker? Any of dozens of featherless cockatoos or psychotic Amazons? It would be a sin to put them through this again. All our birds once gave pleasure to people. Now, at least, they can be comfortable and safe with each other."

LARRA's Bockenhauer also fears that new homes would undo her hard work. Of the 30 birds LARRA currently holds, Bockenhauer plans to keep at least 12 of the most severely traumatized, including Amos, Sunny D the conure, and the two aviary macaws she rescued.

"I wouldn't have the heart to pull the rug out from under them again," she says.

The cost of rescue
Parrot rescue, like most other animal rescue efforts, is not for those squeamish about living hand to mouth, only more so. Parrots raise the stakes in the fund-raising game because of their unique needs.

Marc Johnson of FosterParrots snagged a $10,000 donation from a company he targeted for their corporate logo, a blue-and-gold macaw. Here he chats up a scarlet macaw and two perched green-wings.

Unlike cats and dogs, many of which arrive healthy and can be in new homes within days, parrots tend to need months of rehabilitation, with attendant veterinary costs. Many must recover from self-inflicted wounds or must be trained to discourage anti-social behavior, such as biting.

Birds fly, don't always get along with other species, and need more protection from cold temperatures, all of which costs rescuers more in housing and utilities.

Parrot food, which usually consists of formulated pellets, nuts, fresh vegetables and fruit, racks up bigger grocery bills than bags of dog chow. Caged birds depend heavily on expensive toys for entertainment, which they can destroy with their powerful beaks in minutes.

As a result, a parrot rescue effort does not have to be large to generate king-size food, vet and utility bills each month. A mid-size organization maintaining 25 birds can easily spend over $20,000 a year.

Once they realize how expensive their venture has become, most rehabbers apply for nonprofit status, which relieves them of some of the tax burden and attracts more donations. However, when donations fall short or unexpected expenses arise, a rescuer can wind up spending tens of thousands of dollars out of his or her own pocket.

Needed: money, and lots of it
Some rehabbers, such as Foster Parrot's Marc Johnson, are lucky enough to have an understanding spouse who supports them while they save parrots. Johnson, a potter who hasn't "made a dime in six years," depends on his wife, a cancer research scientist, for his living expenses.

But when it comes to raising money for the birds, most rehabbers must rely on their own wits to drum up support, and it can be a daunting undertaking. It usually isn't too difficult to attract a few dependable volunteers and discounts from a kind-hearted vet, but raising hard, cold cash can be tough for fundraising novices.

Though not yet registered as a nonprofit, Robert Mabrito, executive director of The SammyBird Parrot Rescue and Preservation Society in Dania Beach, Fla., finds it discouraging to have taken in a mere $80 in donations "after one year of having a major parrot site on the Internet.

"And that from a single lady who had placed two birds with us. Support has been virtually non-existent. We are now at capacity, and are turning birds away every week."

LARRA's Bockenhauer appreciates the unexpected acts of charity she receives, such as the year her vet's employees donated their Christmas bonuses. However, she realizes she must hone her fund-raising skills if LARRA is to grow.

LARRA's first big fundraiser, held last year at her husband's bar and restaurant, was an inadvertent "disaster," she says. After unexpected expenses were subtracted from $2500 in donations, each of the four animal organizations involved in the event received a grand total of $180 apiece.

Tapping potential donors
After spending $6,000 of his own money each year the first nine years of rescuing, FosterParrots' Johnson decided to become a nonprofit and approach every potential donor he could think of.

Julie Murad started The  Gabriel Foundation with  money earned as a  caterer in Aspen. Her  advice:  Fund-raising  doesn't have  to be bird- related.

One of his biggest coups was $10,000 from a wireless company. Johnson's strategy? He wrote the company a letter pointing out that it might be a good PR move to help some real-life examples of its logo, a blue-and-gold macaw.

Thanks to Johnson's fund-raising savvy, donations covered all $37,000 of his expenses last year, including salary for a part-time employee.

A lucky few rehabbers stumble onto what all charity organizations dream of: a benevolent benefactor with lots of money to spend on a worthy cause.

A wealthy family decided to help The Oasis when they read an article founder Sybil Erden wrote about her parrot rescue efforts for the Pet Bird Report. Last summer, Erden moved from a residential facility sitting on one acre in Phoenix to a 72-acre piece of land the donor purchased for her.

Erden erected a 1300-square-foot building at the new site for her 270 psittacines and plans to expand to six structures by the end of this year.

Others have pulled themselves up by their own bootstraps. Julie Murad, founder of The Gabriel Foundation in Colorado, launched the organization on funds from "wise business investments" she made with money earned as a caterer to celebrities in Aspen.

Murad now runs her foundation, named after a beloved pet that died, in part on income from The BirdBrain, her own bird-toy store.

She urges other rescue groups to think outside the proverbial box when drumming up dollars. "It doesn't have to be bird-related. You can have silent auctions, car washes or picnics. It depends on the community."

Next page | A bird for $10--or $7500 | 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

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