Dorian Wants Cantaloupe!
by Dr Susan Orosz

Susan E. Orosz, Ph.D., D.V.M., Diplomate ABVP, Avian Practice, Diplomate, European College of Avian Medicine and Surgery, Professor. Dr. Orosz is a Professor at the University of Tennessee, Knoxville, specializing in Avian Medicine

It was one of those scorching summer days in the South—heat and humidity nearly one hundred! Yet, the Palmers had driven for over 5 hours through the stifling heat to bring their African Grey, Dorian, to our hospital. After four months of effort, they needed another evaluation to overcome an infection in the Grey’s right eye. Their vet had given them a variety of ophthalmic drops to administer, but now Dorian kept the eye closed and had had enough of the drops! Could our avian vets and ophthalmologists help their bird?

As we struggled opening the cage, we realized that Mr. Palmer was an engineer and that Dorian was an escape artist. It took several of us humans a long time to figure out how to get Dorian out of the cage! By the time we got him out of his cage, the ophthalmologists were more than ready with their variety of instruments, focused light sources, and hand lens.

Dorian’s right eye was reddened and painful. Within the cornea itself were several clear bubbles—the apparent source of the problem. But what were they and what caused them! Our young, energetic ophthalmologist, Dr. Kerry, suggested a corneal scraping and possible culture. I thought that we would also need to do gram stains and blood work, including tests for a fungal infection, aspergillosis.

Several hours later, Dr. Kerry returned with equipment in hand so that we could do the corneal scraping under anesthesia. Dorian was soon sleeping under isoflurane anesthesia. Dr. Kerry wanted to look at the bubbles yet again. They were so very unusual–her only thought was that we could figure out the cause of the problem and then treat accordingly.

While Dorian was under anesthesia, we also noticed that the area around the eye seemed to protrude slightly, suggesting an infection or tumor around it. For that reason, we scheduled a CAT scan of Dorian’s head for the next day.

Because we would have to anesthetize Dorian for a longer period of time the following afternoon, we thought it best to withhold food and water for several hours. As with humans, this precaution reduces the chances of regurgitation and aspiration. Dorian was beginning to settle in and, like most Grey’s, was beginning to figure out who was who and what strings he could pull. We had pulled the food and water for several hours, but radiology called and put us on hold for another hour.

As I walked by Dorian's cage to check on another bird, he caught my eye and said in clear, distinct tones, "Water, water, water!" I stopped in my tracks. "Dorian," I replied, "you can’t have water now because you have to go night night." He looked at me and retorted, "Strawberries, want strawberries!" even more firmly. Well, I must admit, even though I have worked with birds for quite some time, veterinarians don’t often get animals telling them verbally what they want! My birds might request things in a home setting, but not at the clinic as a patient. But Dorian did and he held command. When I said, "No," once again, he responded with a deeper voice, "Cantaloupe, cantaloupe, want cantaloupe, want cantaloupe!" Despite Dorian's vocalizations, food and water would have to wait.

At last it was time to scrape the cornea. We obtained the sample and administered oxygen to roust Dorian from anesthesia. When he awoke, I knew he would ask again. This time, I was prepared! I had run to the deli and obtained a few chunks of cantaloupe and a few strawberries. I waited briefly, and Dorian asked again! "Water, want water!" I offered him a bowl of cool water. After taking several sips, Dorian responded, "Want cantaloupe!" I showed him a strawberry and he looked at it. "Cantaloupe, want cantaloupe," came the reply. At this point, I showed him a piece of cantaloupe. He rocked back and forth in his cage until I handed it to him. He grabbed it with his beak and then transferred it to his foot, delighting in the pleasure of devouring it. When finished, he than remarked, "Strawberry, want strawberry! Sure enough, he repeated his performance, rocking to and fro in pleasure.

I marveled at his linguistic skills and wondered just how much he knew. Alas, our tests and scrapings revealed that he had aspergillosis, a fungal infection. In Dorian, it affected part of his head and eye. Fortunately, antifungal drugs helped to control his infection.

As I reflect back now, I remember my surprise at such an articulate bird and our efforts to solve this medical puzzle. And I think "Why didn’t he just tell us!"

Copyright 2000 Susan Orosz