“Sometimes a man needs a place of his own.” Ryan.
Two vertical lines puckered Rachel’s brow, but she continued.
“In 1995 researchers released a female Spix’s into the male’s territory, hoping the two would bond and reproduce.”
“Uh-oh. The proverbial other woman.”
Rachel ignored that.
“The female Spix’s courted the male, and he responded.”
“Divorce court?”
“The three birds flew together for a month.”
“Menage a trois.”
“Is he always like this?” Rachel asked me.
“Yes. Then what happened?”
“The Spix’s female disappeared, and the odd couple returned to its previous domestic arrangement.”
Rachel glanced at Ryan to see if he’d appreciated her witticism.
“Was hubby the sloppy one or neat one?” he asked.
Rachel made an odd, giggling sound through her nose.
“What happened to the Spix’s female?” I asked.
“She had a run-in with power lines.”
“Ouch.” Ryan winced.
“Next, researchers tried all kinds of manipulations with the Illiger’s eggs, finally swapping live Illiger hatchlings for the dead hybrid embryos the female was incubating.”
“What happened?”
“The Brady Bunch.”
“The pair turned out to be good parents,” I guessed.
Rachel nodded.
“And here’s the surprising part. Although the chicks were completely Illiger’s genetically, the young developed voices identical to Dad’s.”
“That’s amazing,” I said.
“Researchers were planning to slip captive-bred Spix’s hatchlings into the nest when the big guy disappeared.”
“The lovebirds were still a couple?” Ryan.
“We’re talking about macaws. Lovebirds are
“So there are still some Spix’s alive in captivity?” I asked.
Rachel sniffed to show her disdain.
“Approximately sixty exist in private collections.”
“Where?”
“On a commercial bird farm in the Philippines, on the estate of a Qatari sheikh, and in a private aviary in northern Switzerland. I think there’s one at the Sao Paulo zoo, and several at a parrot park in the Canary Islands.”
“The owners are qualified ornithologists?”
“There’s not a biology degree among them.”
“Is that legal?”
“Unfortunately, yes. The birds are considered private property, so the owners can do what they like with them. But the Spix’s macaw has been an Appendix One species under CITES since 1975.”
Random particles of an idea began to form in my head.
“CITES?”
“The Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species. Appendix One species are considered endangered, and commercial trade in wild specimens is permitted only in exceptional circumstances.”
The particles started to coalesce.
“Is there a market for live Spix’s?”
“The Spix’s was already rare in the eighteenth century because it was so highly valued by collectors.” She virtually spat the last word. “Today, a live Spix’s could bring a hundred thousand dollars or more from a well-heeled buyer.”
Like matter, an idea exploded into being.
