Why men keep pet birds

I've formulated a few theories why people prefer birds in cages instead of flying free
Chua Mui Hoong, Straits Times 27 Dec 09;

I have a theory about men who keep birds in cages and fishes in tanks.

They probably also like their women in their place: decorative, content to sit in a corner until called upon to perform.

This breed of men probably likes things confined, boxed in. They are prepared to spend minimal effort to upkeep their pets (fish and birds being easy to care for), yet expect them to be healthy, breed and perform tricks on demand.

Ever wondered why most people who keep pet birds in cages are men?

If you don't believe me, take the bus or drive out to Ang Mo Kio Avenue 4. Near the wet market is a large grass field with dozens of poles on which men string up their bird cages. There's a big singing competition on this morning. Yes, today, Dec 27.

Men from all over Singapore will congregate there for a merobok singing competition. Even though the name sounds crackly, merobok are in fact zebra doves.

The bird field will resonate with their cooing and trilling. Judges will walk up and down the rows awarding points.

Merobok are classified by the tone of their calls, with Category A for birds with lowest-toned calls and C or D for higher tones.

The birds that call and sing the loudest, and most melodiously, and have the nicest display, will be champions.

This is probably more information than you really need on merobok. I learnt all these during a recent jaunt to the bird zone, when I took my mum to the wet market and we walked past the area.

A friendly man displaying several birds there told us a merobok costs anything from tens of dollars, to hundreds to tens of thousands.

Champion singers can fetch in excess of $100,000, a figure which stunned my frugal mother so much, she repeated it throughout the rest of the day. 'Over $100,000 for a bird. You can buy a flat for that price!'

Pet birds make for serious business in Singapore.

On several recent trips to bird singing corners, I conducted my usual research on such topics: I talked to people in the know, read Wikipedia, greased my superficial knowledge with my own views on human nature and came up with a list of reasons why men keep birds in cages.

Why was it mainly men who kept birds as pets, anyway? When I asked one man this in a bird corner in a nearby estate, he said defensively: 'Got women. Once, I saw a woman in a Mercedes take her bird here.'

It was such a rare occurrence, he remembered it.

So what is it with men and birds in cages? First, the obvious reasons. It's just a hobby.

And as hobbies go, pet birds are easy and harmless. They need feeding and a change of water once a day. If you're bored, you can whistle and if you're lucky, the birdie responds.

Like fish in tanks, birds require little emotional investment and minimal physical upkeep, but are still responsive. From an investment-yield point of view, they make a better choice than a human female who needs a lot of emotional and financial maintenance, and doesn't always respond with a cheerful chirp when you want her to.

The pop psychologist in me thus came up with my first thesis: Birds in cages provide distraction and solace for a certain type of men, who may have problems with real-life relationships.

The stereotypical view of bird-keepers is that of a lonely elderly man with no family, who has at least a bird to keep him company.

In this view, keeping birds is a way of sublimating desire for female company.

I can hear the angry howls from the thousands of men who are perfectly well-adjusted adults, whose dozens of birds at home co-exist happily with their long-suffering wives and children.

Maybe they fall into the second category: For some men, keeping birds is another way to show off their prowess over others.

You can spot the men with champion singers by the smugness on their faces at competitions. At a recent bird-display evening, I made a beeline for one man sitting among a dozen and chatted him up about his birds. He had this air of knowingness. Of course, he turned out to be the owner of the noisiest bird that evening.

Evolutionary biology tells us hierarchy is latent in any homo-sapien male social grouping. In the pet bird community, status and hierarchy are accorded to men who own or have trained or bred the best singing birds, who more often than not are housed in expensive cages.

Details such as ornate carvings on hardwood cages and the use of exquisite porcelain water and feeding bowls are the equivalent of a man decking out his trophy wife in expensive designer jewellery: to showcase his wealth, status and connoisseurship.

But wait, you say. Some people keep pet birds just for fun. They don't have problems relating to human beings, and are not interested in birds as status symbols.

Maybe I'm jaundiced. Bird owners will say they take good care of their pets.

Some may say their birds were bred in captivity and would not survive in the wild. Canaries, for example, have been bred as pets for centuries and are no longer fit to live in the wild.

Others may say their birds have a better life in sheltered cages than in the wild where they face real danger to life and limb. Some wild birds may be badly injured, needing human rehabilitation.

Which leads me to thesis 3: that some people keep birds to satisfy their nurturing instinct.

Humans have a long history of domesticating animals for pets as companionship, or as work animals on farms.

Ethicists write reams about the rights and wrongs of such practices. Kind humans try to make sure the animals under their charge are comfortable and cared for.

I accept that some people take good care of pet birds.

For me, I love watching birds in the wild. Yesterday, I saw a black-capped kingfisher splash in the canal. Minutes before I started this piece, an eagle perched on a tree branch in front of my window, giving me a full frontal view as it scratched itself.

Some like birds in cages. I like to see mine in the wild, flying free, at ease with the dangers and joys of an unfettered life.