The Birdy Bunch Parrot Rescue

10/16/2026

Happy 10th birthday to the bird who started absolutely EVERYTHING!!!! 🤍

Ten years ago, Murphy was dropped outside my dad’s tattoo shop. I was 12, had never really wanted a bird, and suddenly became the owner of a bitey little grey jerk with no ring and absolutely no backstory. One of the first things I did was print out a list of everything birds couldn’t eat and duck taped it to his cage because I was convinced one wrong snack would take him out. Ten years later, that entire list lives in my head rent free.

Believe me, 12-year-old me thought Murphy was dying REGULARLY.

The first incident was the blueberry. We gave him blueberries, he refused to eat them, and we left the house figuring he’d eat them when we were gone. We came home a few hours later and his chest was RED. I am hysterically sobbing to my dad that Murphy is dead. It took us nearly AN HOUR to solve the crime scene.

He ate the blueberry.

That was it. My “profusely bleeding” bird had simply eaten a fruit. 🫐😭

Then came his first bath. We read that birds needed baths, so Murphy went in the shower with me. I put him on the windowsill afterward, looked over, saw his little elbows sticking through his soaking-wet feathers and—once again—MURPHY HAS TWO BROKEN WINGS.

Murphy was not dying from broken wings.

Those were his elbows.

Somehow, despite surviving blueberries, showers, and a 12-year-old who diagnosed him with death twice a week, Murphy is TEN.

Now I can look at him and realize just how much we grew up together. Everything I once needed taped to his cage is second nature now. Birds went from something I had never thought about owning to becoming such a massive part of my life. Before Ben and Gwen, before the rescue, before all the birds who have come through my doors, there was just a clueless 12-year-old and this random little grey bird someone left outside a tattoo shop.

Murphy also lost his best friend Phillip about a month ago, and watching how resilient he’s been has made me even more emotional about this birthday. My grey king just keeps going—still handsome, still opinionated, and still asking “WHAT’RE YOU DOING?” approximately 700 times a day.

Sometimes I wish I could hand 12-year-old me that stupid laminated food list and say, “You have absolutely no idea where this is going.”

That bitey little jerk with no ring became the gorgeous, majestic grey king who started it all.

Ten years later… wow. Look where it all started. 🥹

Happy birthday, Murph. Thank you for the heart attacks, the laughs, the “what’re you doing?” and for accidentally changing the entire course of my life.

You were the very first. There will never be another you. 🤍

10/15/2026

There are parts of the CDE Exotics case that I have desperately wanted the public to see, but I cannot legally share photographs obtained under the warrant.

But I can share what is already public.

These are publicly posted real-estate photos of the building, taken roughly a day after the raid.

And looking through them is haunting.

Most people will see an empty building. I see where these animals were.

I see Ju Ju’s dog cage sitting right next to the ferrets. I see the basement where the rats were kept in aquarium-style cages. I see snakes in bins with no light available. I see the surgical unit. I see the blurred area where the mummified opossum was found. I see my poor Rosie girl.

And if you look all the way in the back next to the rabbit “cage”, on the floor, you can see the doves’ cage. Not one food or water bowl available to them.

I see the dust. The grime. The filth. I see the spaces these animals occupied before we carried them out.

These photos don’t show you everything I saw that day. They don’t show Ju Ju’s broken wing, twisted leg and hip. They don’t show Ingrid missing half of her face. They don’t show the animals themselves.

But they let you see where they came from.

I can’t post the warrant photographs. I can’t show you everything that was documented.

So instead, I’m giving you something I am legally allowed to give you:

the public listing.

Look closely. Zoom in. Look in the corners. Look at the cages. Look at the bins. Look at the basement. Look at the surgical area.

To some, it’s just a building for sale.

To those of us who walked through it that day, it holds memories we wish these animals had never been forced to live — one of the darkest days a majority of us have ever witnessed.

And one final “bonus”: some of the baby animals purchased from a breeder as quick-sell inventory are now being advertised on Craigslist under “Reptiles (many).” These are animals being sold by a self-proclaimed “rescue.”

I’ll leave everyone with one question:

What rescue buys baby animals from a breeder just to turn around and sell them?

Public listing:

Photos, maps, description of Commercial Property For Sale at 95 S Main Street, Wilkes Barre, PA 18701, asking price of $405,000

10/15/2026

After seeing the absolute hell uncovered through the CDE Exotics case, quite a few people have reached out asking how they can donate or help the birds. I never want anyone to feel obligated to donate, but for those who have specifically asked, this is where the help would go right now. 🤍

At this point, Ju Ju and Ingrid are the only CDE birds still physically in my care. Everyone else has either been adopted or is with their foster families who plan to officially adopt them once the birds are legally signed over!

Our needs right now are actually pretty simple:
• 1 bag HARI XL
• 1 bag ZuPreem Naturals Large
• 1 bag HARI Cockatiel
• 1 bag ZuPreem Naturals Cockatiel
• $125 remaining balance at Brodheadsville that I’d love to finally pay off and close out

The XL food feeds only Liberty, our Congo African Grey who still isn’t quite ready to find his forever perch.

The cockatiel food is for our two brand-new arrivals and the five little faces pictured below — Eve, Beep, Eva, Lemon & Nelson.

Those five arrived March 3rd. They have now spent 7½ months here without a single person choosing them. They came from a heartbreaking hoarding situation, and while so many birds have come through our doors, found their people and gone home, these five are still waiting.

They are very much available for adoption. They’re bonded, they come with their cage and belongings, and they need someone willing to love them exactly as they are.

So for everyone who has asked how they can help after learning about CDE—this is it. Nothing crazy. A few bags of food, one last vet balance, and maybe a share that finally puts our five longest residents in front of the person they’ve been waiting for. 🦜🤍

🔗 Adoption Application
👉🏻https://forms.gle/jGa3Lvt3ib2CPa1j6

🎁 Amazon Wishlist
👉🏻https://www.amazon.com/hz/wishlist/ls/1OVGBFO7QB0MP?ref_=wl_share

💸 Donate
CashApp: https://cash.app/$thebirdybunch
Venmo: https://www.venmo.com/u/thebirdybunch
PayPal: https://www.paypal.me/paigemoore215
Zelle: [email protected]

10/14/2026

🦜 Let’s talk about something parrots take VERY seriously: their routine.

Parrots THRIVE on routine—from the most spoiled owner surrender to our abuse and hoarding survivors. Unfortunately, once they learn the schedule, I am no longer permitted to deviate from it.

6:50 AM: Rocco, my house Eclectus, begins screaming because his 7 AM breakfast is late. It is not 7 AM.

7 AM: Chop & fresh water. Rocco triggers everybirdie, Peanut starts yelling “BYE, SEE YA LATER,” Blue screams “HI,” Liberty answers with “HELLO,” and Ingrid deploys the cockatoo air-raid siren—which immediately activates the entire downstairs clan. Meanwhile, Ju Ju is yelling at everyone for yelling at her mother, and Murphy & Layla spend the entire ordeal demanding “WHAT’RE YOU DOING?”

The same thing I do every morning, guys. Please contact HR.

10 AM: Bowls change again. Vacuum. Mop. Spot cleaning of all the cages. Bird rotations are midway.

2–3 PM: Mandatory screaming meeting. Could’ve been an email.

5 PM: Dinner. Bowls. Vacuum. Mop. Question my career choices.

5:30 PM–sundown: More rotations. My personal flock is one giant friend group, while Blue roams his room, climbs his couch and generally behaves like his name is on the deed.

Sundown: Lights out, London. Our bird rooms get dark and quiet, so everyone gets their full uninterrupted sleep.

People who visit always tell me the house looks like a museum. You will rarely find a pellet on my floor.

This is because I am a neat freak with a vacuum and absolutely no hobbies. It’s not a facade, I’m just mental.

📸 Photo tax: Tweezle & Twig, Assistant Directors of Bowl Washing. Their qualifications include bathing in freshly changed water, throwing the sponge into the sink, standing exactly where I need to work, and contributing nothing.

Both were recently promoted. Raises approved.

Underneath all the chaos, routine matters. Whether they came from a wonderful home or a horrible one, knowing what happens next gives parrots security—and for our trauma survivors, that consistency is an incredible part of healing.

Anyway, it’s almost dinner. Management has informed me that tardiness is a fireable offense.

And yes, that is in fact a baking sheet I use to transport everyone’s bowls downstairs—work smarter, not harder. 😂

10/10/2026

💚 INTRODUCING RANDY & TINKERBELL! 💚

Please help me welcome these two sweet babies to their new temporary home! 🥹🦜

A HUGE thank you to Erin, who selflessly gave up her entire day alongside her husband to make sure these babies and their other feathered friend made it here safely. It takes a special kind of person to show up when birds need it most, and I’m so grateful they did!

The third birdie was also returned to us in accordance with her adoption contract. We’ll reintroduce her properly at a later time, once she’s had the chance to decompress and mingle with some familiar faces. For now, she deserves peace and time to settle back in.

All three are chowing down on some pellets, and they even got to enjoy a little outside time while I tidied up their cages! Can we talk about these crests for a second?! 😂 There’s nothing I love more than a cockatiel that looks like they have a fork taped to their head!

Welcome to your new temporary home, babies. You’re safe here, and we’ll take things one day at a time. 🤍🏡🦜

10/08/2026

Ju Ju had to show Auntie Leesa what she’s been working on for the last couple months. 🥹🩷

Since May 14th, I’ve been working on her “flying.” I’ve held her every day and we’ve run around the house and yard like complete idiots so she could get comfortable opening her wings and figuring out how to use them.

Until now, she’s basically been skating across the grass, using her wings to propel herself forward with zero lift.

This time, we got some. 🥹

It wasn’t far, and it wasn’t pretty, but watching her fully extend those wings and start figuring out how to make them work is absolutely beautiful.

Her foot and hip make walking extremely difficult, and her wing is still broken in two places. Until she can be released and have her surgery, I’m hoping we can get this method of transportation down well enough that she can have a little independence.

My flying lessons are finally paying off in all the right ways.

According to her vet, this wasn’t supposed to be something she’d be able to do before she gets her surgery. Look at her now!

Ju Ju keeps proving that she’s capable of so much more than anyone expected. 🩷🦜✨

10/07/2026

MEET PEGGY SUE — FORMERLY LIZZY ❤️

Peggy is a CDE Exotics survivor, and after speaking with her previous family, we learned that this beautiful girl is at least 32 years old.

Her family absolutely loved her. They truly believed they were doing what was best for their baby. That is part of what makes the CDE story so heartbreaking. Cameron knew exactly how to play to people’s emotions and make them believe he was a savior who could love animals others couldn’t.

No surrendering family should be blamed for being hoodwinked by someone who deliberately presented himself that way.

Peggy was taken to Soaring Spirits during the raid back in April, and she has made such incredible progress with her mama, Jenn.

I’m lucky enough to get to FaceTime with Peggy while I’m talking to Monster, my permanent scissor-beak Harlequin boy who came to me in February from a severe hoarding situation. Jenn has such a special love for the birds who need a little extra, so it was incredibly fitting that Peggy chose her. They truly are two peas in a pod. ❤️

Peggy had her foot and toe amputated by fishing line. She also has severe arthritis in her wings, and between that and her missing limbs, climbing and perching can be incredibly difficult.

Now that we know she is at least 32, Jenn can work with her vets to build an even stronger medical profile and come up with the best possible plan to keep Peggy comfortable and manage her arthritis as she gets older.

Jenn’s other macaws each have their own beautiful Java tree stands. Peggy can’t climb or perch on one, so Jenn did what she always does for her special girl:

She built something specifically for Peggy.

She custom-made Peggy a stand out of planks so she could safely move around and have her own space designed entirely around what she can do.

How beautiful is that? 🥹

Then there’s Peggy’s most precious little personality trait.

She still says her infamous “come here.” 😂❤️

I’ll be sitting there talking to her mama, completely minding my own business, and suddenly I hear a very confident “COME HERE” right in my ear.

It absolutely kills me every time.

After everything this girl has been through, she is still here.

Still talking.
Still demanding attention.
Still very much Peggy Sue.

She spent decades being someone’s beloved baby. She was put in the hands of someone her family believed would love her. She survived one of the worst situations imaginable, and somehow, she landed exactly where she belongs.

With a mama who looks at her missing foot, her arthritis, her limitations and her age and simply says:

“Okay. Then we’ll build for you.”

That is what Peggy deserved all along. ❤️

10/05/2026

I honestly don’t even have the words for how much this meant to me. 🥹🤍

Nikki originally came to me wanting to adopt, not even knowing exactly who she was looking for. Somewhere along the way, rescue gave me a friend I didn’t even know I needed.

She asks all the right questions, cares so deeply about her birds, and genuinely wants to do the absolute best by them. Then she took time out of her busy life to draw my sweet Phillip.

She never knew him. She never got to meet him or experience all the little things that made him Phillip. She only knew how much I loved him, and she chose to make his memory special.

The timing of this could not have been more perfect. With everything surrounding the CDE case lately, so many old wounds have been reopened. There have been days where I’ve found myself thinking about Phillip all over again, carrying that same heartbreak I thought I had learned to live with.

Then I opened this, and I sobbed.

It felt like my boy was being brought back into my life for a moment. Someone who never even knew him took the time to remember him because she knew how much he meant to me.

Rescue really does bring you people you never knew you needed. Thank you, Nikki, for giving me a little piece of my sweet boy back. I’ll treasure this forever. 🤍

10/04/2026

MEET INGRID — FORMERLY SNOWY 🤍

CDE EXOTICS SURVIVOR. CHAMPION. NOW, A PERMANENT MEMBER OF THE BIRDY BUNCH.

There are so many things about Ingrid that I wish I knew. I don’t know where she came from, who had her before CDE Exotics, how long she was called Snowy, or what happened to her before she ended up there. I don’t know whether the injuries she came to us with happened while she was at CDE, whether she arrived there already injured, or whether someone surrendered her in that condition and nothing was ever done to help her. I don’t know who saw her injuries and what, if anything, was done about them.

I don’t know why part of her beak is missing. I don’t know what happened to her eye. I don’t know why one of her feet is permanently stuck closed. I don’t know whether those injuries happened together or at completely different points in her life. I don’t know who was there when it happened, who noticed, who documented it, or who simply looked at her and walked away.

That is the part that breaks my heart.

Ingrid’s body tells a story that she cannot tell me.

No veterinarian has been able to determine exactly what caused her injuries. I wondered if she may have been burned at some point, but as her feathers have grown back, that possibility has become less likely. A burn severe enough to destroy the feather follicles would generally prevent those feathers from growing back. The truth is that we may never know what happened to her.

I would give anything to know.

With almost every other bird I have pulled, previous owners or people who knew them have eventually found their way to me. Through those conversations, I have been able to piece together their histories: their ages, previous names, little quirks they still have, things they love, things they hate, and pieces of the lives they lived before they became part of mine. Those details matter. They help me understand them, help me build their profiles, and give these birds pieces of their identities back.

There are only five birds that I pulled whose histories have remained almost completely unknown to me: Kiwi, Milo, Bailey, Ju Ju, and Ingrid.

Ingrid is the one I think about the most.

For the first two months, Ingrid stayed clinging to the back of her cage. She was terrified of movement, terrified of sound, and terrified of anything coming toward her. She wouldn’t eat if I was even in the same room. If I moved too quickly, she would fall to the cage floor and thrash so violently that I genuinely thought she was going to break a wing. I stopped asking anything of her. I slowed down, sat with her, talked to her, let her watch me, and waited.

Then, within the last week, Ingrid flew for the first time.

I sobbed.

I knew exactly what that flight meant. This was the same bird who had spent two months terrified to move, and suddenly she spread her wings and decided the world was safe enough to fly through. It wasn’t perfect, and it didn’t need to be. It was hers.

Ingrid does not step up. I honestly don’t know if she ever will, and that is completely okay with me. She doesn’t owe me a step-up, physical affection, cuddles, or anything else. She gets to decide what trust looks like. Right now, sometimes trust looks like screaming at me. We scream together, and somehow that has become one of my favorite things about her.

She is finally opening up. She is finding her voice, exploring, flying, becoming curious, and discovering that she is allowed to have a personality. She is becoming Ingrid.

Somewhere along the way, this terrified bird who arrived with so many unanswered questions became my girl.

I have never been a cockatoo fanatic by any means, but Ingrid is different. She is mine. She is not going anywhere. She will never be adopted out. She will stay exactly where she is comfortable for the rest of her life, whether she eventually decides she wants to step up or whether she never does. She has already had enough people and circumstances decide things for her. From now on, she gets a say.

There is still one thing I desperately want for her: her history.

If you knew Ingrid when she was Snowy, recognize her injuries, know where she came from, know who owned her, know how she was acquired, know whether she arrived at CDE already injured, know whether anything was done for those injuries, or even remember some tiny little quirk she had years ago, please reach out to me.

You do not need to have a perfect story. You do not need to know exactly what happened. Even the smallest piece of information could help me understand this girl a little better.

I am not looking for someone to blame. I am looking for answers.

If Ingrid arrived at CDE with these injuries, I want to know that. If she was surrendered there already injured and nobody helped her, I want to know that, too. If something happened to her while she was there, I want to know. If someone remembers her from years ago and can tell me what she was like before all of this, I want to know that most of all.

These animals deserved people who paid attention to them.

They deserved people who noticed when something was wrong.

They deserved medical care when they were injured.

They deserved someone to know their names, their histories, their personalities, and the things that made them individuals instead of just another animal in a building.

Ingrid deserved that.

Instead, she came out of CDE carrying questions on her face and fear in her body.

I cannot change what happened before she came to me. I cannot give her back the pieces of her history that were lost. I cannot undo whatever caused her injuries.

What I can do is make sure the rest of her story is different.

She is safe now. She is loved now. She has a voice now. She has wings now.

Most importantly, she has a home.

Welcome home, Ingrid.

CDE Exotics survivor. Champion. My girl. Forever. 🤍