Ruffled Feathers Parrot Sanctuary Inc.
Where Hope Takes Flight
October 22 Edition
The RFPS Chronicles
The Ones Who Kept Showing Up
Ten years of one autumn date: the birds who stayed, the people who posted, and the animals who found us when nobody else was looking
Collector’s Edition No. 003
Ruffled Feathers Parrot Sanctuary Inc.
Hope Takes Flight for Parrots and Wildlife
Ruffled Feathers Sanctuary History: About This Edition
The RFPS Chronicles is a long-form documentary publication and historical archive created by Ruffled Feathers Parrot Sanctuary Inc. to preserve the stories, animals, people, lessons, humor, rescue work, and ordinary moments that might otherwise disappear into old posts and forgotten timelines.
This October 22 Collector’s Edition follows one calendar date across ten years, from 2015 to 2025. It was rebuilt from forty-six surviving Facebook posts, five of them videos, recovered from the sanctuary page and from Brad’s personal page. We keep what survived and clearly separate what was known then, what we know now, and what the record does not tell us.
We do not invent missing captions, identify animals without enough evidence, or fill gaps simply because a cleaner story would be easier to tell.
Social media shares moments. The RFPS Chronicles preserves them.
Editorial voice: primarily Brad, in first person where appropriate. Tara and Shannon speak in their own words where the archive preserved them.
Original RFPS photography: Photo: Ruffled Feathers Parrot Sanctuary Inc.
Archive video: Video: Ruffled Feathers Parrot Sanctuary Inc., recovered from the original posts.
AI-created imagery, where used: Illustration: AI-generated for Ruffled Feathers Parrot Sanctuary Inc.
Louisville, Kentucky
October 22, 2026
© Ruffled Feathers Parrot Sanctuary Inc.
Opening Reflection
RFPS Chronicles October 22: Ten Years of Memories
The RFPS Chronicles October 22 edition starts with a bird who did not want to get out of bed.
That was Ray, in 2015, on what I called a terrible Thursday.
Two years later Ray was quoting Tolstoy.
Five years later Tara was singing a Pina Colada song to him with the words changed.
That is the strange thing about pulling one date out of a decade.
You expect to find ten different days.
What you actually find is the same handful of characters walking through all of them.
Ray. Misty. Baby. Kiki. A little conure named Bear, and later an old dog named Bear who had nothing to do with him.
A dancer we never named. An opossum frozen on a fence. A dog running down Dixie Highway.
Tara making the morning posts. Shannon talking to a raptor. A woman named Marsha whose bird Frankie did not want a bath.
Most of the time, though, you do not notice who keeps showing up.
After all, you are too busy showing up yourself.
October 22 is not important because one enormous thing happened on it.
It is important because, year after year, the same people and the same animals kept being there.
That is what this edition remembers.
You expect to find ten different days. What you find is the same handful of characters walking through all of them.
From Brad
RFPS Chronicles October 22: I Was Sick, Tired, and Still Posting
The first thing the archive handed me for October 22 was a video of myself from 2015 with a voice so sickly I almost did not share it.
I shared it anyway. I wrote that I was sickly, I did not care, and I loved what it captured.
That turned out to be a pretty good summary of the whole decade.
Tired, under the weather, behind on the pressure washing, and still putting the birds on the page four times a day.
Ruffled Feathers Sanctuary History: The Moments That Matter
Reading back through it, a few things jumped out.
For starters, Ray shows up in three different years.
Misty shows up in three, and in one of them she is waiting in the truck while I go catch an owl.
Baby, a boarder, came back for a second vacation and got invited into Kiki’s cage, which for Kiki is practically a marriage proposal.
My wife learned what a snowy owl was from this page and would not admit it.
Two birds got dumped at the motel with no names, and then the internet named them.
An old dog named Bear got his mats shaved off and became a city dog.
A dog named D.O.G. ran down the right stretch of Dixie Highway and Tara caught her.
And in 2025 a scheduling robot posted an April 29 history lesson on October 22, which I am leaving in, because an archive that hides its mistakes is not an archive.
In fact, I did not remember most of this.
I am glad the page did, though.
October 22 kept the same people and the same birds around for ten years.
I did not know that until I went looking.
Ruffled Feathers Sanctuary History Through the Years
2015
Terrible Thursdays and a Page Finding Its Feet
Ray in bed, Sky settling in, snowy owls, a dancer we never named, and a sick man posting a video anyway.
2016
A Full House on a Saturday
Frankie, Pearl Squirrel, Magic, Larry Bird, Rosie, Baby on vacation, Shannon and the raptor, and a little bird named Bear deciding to be friends.
2017
RFPS Chronicles October 22: The Morning Shift Belonged to Tara
Misty up early, Ray quoting Tolstoy, Baby in Kiki’s cage, Barbara stepping up, Kiki demanding to come inside, and two babies dumped at the motel.
2018
Conures in Her Hair
A nice fall day, BB on top of her cage, Bear Bryant snuggling, and a story about Misty that Tara saved for another day.
2019
The Day Misty Waited in the Truck
Lucy says I love you and means it, then a Great Horned Owl, a raccoon, a Virginia rail, a cardinal, and one we could not save.
2020-2021
Pina Coladas and Old Man Bear
Tara changing the words to songs for Ray Ray, and a deaf, mostly blind old dog learning that touch can feel good again.
2022
The Visitor on the Fence
An opossum frozen on the fence for thirty minutes, and two elderly cockatoos who found each other late in life.
2024-2025
D.O.G., Mango, and the Date the Robot Got Wrong
A thrown-away dog gets a family, a thin-feathered bird greets the sunrise, and the archive keeps its own mistake on the record.
RFPS Chronicles October 22 at a Glance
Wildlife Rescue
A Great Horned Owl caught in an electric fence, a raccoon, a Virginia rail, a cardinal, and an opossum who was only looking for dinner.
Parrot Rehabilitation
Barbara stepping up, little Bear deciding we would be friends, Lucy after a prolapse scare, and Mango’s thin feathers filling back in.
Sanctuary Life
Ray, Sky, Misty, Kiki, Magic, Pearl Squirrel, Larry Bird, Rosie, BB, Bear Bryant, Lucy, and a whole lot of birds sleeping past noon.
Community
Marsha’s Frankie, Baby’s family, the people who named a dumped bonded pair, and the ones who kept telling us what they learned here.
Education
Cassowaries, Little Penguins, Keel-billed Toucans, Black Swans, Ptarmigan, snowy owls, and why hummingbirds were once filed under “no feet.”
Dogs, Too
Old man Bear with his mats gone, and D.O.G., found on Dixie Highway and sent home with a family that would never throw her away.
Organizational History
The 2015 post about learning how a page works, the four-posts-a-day clock, and the 2025 scheduling mistake we are keeping.
Humor
Terrible Thursdays, poo on the ladder, Misty in Tara’s hair, birds who need to get jobs, and a mean ole Bear who got wrestled and lost.
Ten years of one date, and almost none of it was planned. That is usually how the good parts happen.
Ruffled Feathers Sanctuary History: A Decade of Small Moments
RFPS Chronicles October 22 Through the Years
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2015
A page finding its feet.
Ray hated Thursdays, Sky was getting used to her new home, somebody’s wife learned about snowy owls, and Brad posted a video with a sick voice because he loved what it captured.
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2016
A full house on a Saturday.
Nine posts in one day. Frankie, Pearl Squirrel, Magic, Larry Bird, Rosie, Baby, a raptor in conversation with Shannon, and Bear the conure giving in.
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2017
Tara ran the mornings.
Misty was up before the other babies, Ray quoted Tolstoy, Baby visited Kiki’s cage, Barbara was stepping up, and two nameless birds arrived at the motel.
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2018
Conures in her hair.
A nice fall Monday, BB on her cage, Bear Bryant snuggling, and Tara noting that Misty likes to poop in her hair, a story she saved for another day.
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2019
The busiest October 22 in the archive.
Lucy scared straight by the vet, a Great Horned Owl in an electric fence, a raccoon, a Virginia rail, a cardinal, and Misty waiting in the truck the whole time.
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2020
Pina Coladas.
Tara and Ray Ray, five photos, and a confession that we like to change the words to songs.
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2021
Old man Bear.
A deaf, mostly blind dog with his mats finally gone, happy to be touched again.
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2022
The visitor on the fence.
An opossum froze on the fence for half an hour while Brad put the chickens to bed. Same day, Pokey and Tasha had one of their moments.
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2023
No October 22 material recovered for this edition.
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2024
D.O.G.
A clean, well-kept dog who knew how to sit was found running down Dixie Highway. Nobody came looking. A new family did.
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2025
Mango, and a robot’s mistake.
Mango greeted the sunrise with thicker feathers, and an automated post about April 29 went out on October 22. We are keeping both.
The job of the RFPS Chronicles October 22 edition is not to make ten years look tidy. It is to keep what survived, including the parts that make us wince.
Chapter One · 2015
RFPS Chronicles October 22: Terrible Thursdays and a Page Finding Its Feet
October 22, 2015 was a Thursday.
Ray and I felt about the same way about getting out of bed.
That is how the day opened on the page: a cockatoo and a man, both unconvinced that Thursday was necessary.
By noon I was sharing more pictures of Sky, a new arrival who was still getting used to her new home, and admitting that I had just noticed all the poo on the ladder in the photo.
I was trying to get the pressure washing done before winter trapped us all inside.
One more thing on the list.
Ten years later, the list has not gotten shorter.
RFPS Chronicles October 22: My Wife Learned It From the Page
At two o’clock that afternoon I shared a post from the National Aviary about two snowy owls named Tundra and Glacier.
What I wrote with it is my favorite thing in this chapter.
My wife and I had watched a Harry Potter marathon. Then a snowy owl came on screen. I asked her what kind of bird that was, and she said it was a snowy owl, of course.
So I asked where she learned that.
She would not tell me and pretended not to know.
She learned it from this page, and I knew it. So I decided I would not tell her that I knew.
I am telling her now. It has been eleven years. Surely the statute of limitations has run out.
I also wrote that a whole bunch of people said they came to the page every day to learn about and see the different birds, and that this was what all of it was really about for me.
I still feel that way.
That is what all this is really about for me and what makes it all worth while.
Can You Name This True Star of Dancing With the Stars?
At eight that evening I posted a bird and asked people to name it.
This was a running game on the page long before anyone called it a game.
Post something unusual. Let people guess. Reveal it later.
The Chronicle does not identify animals the original post did not identify, so the dancer stays unnamed here.
If you remember, you were there.
RFPS Chronicles October 22: The Video I Almost Did Not Post
I was sick that day.
I filmed the birds anyway, listened back, hated my voice, and posted it because I loved what it captured.
Sixty-six people liked it. Nobody mentioned the voice.
That is the page in one sentence: show up anyway, and people will meet you there.
Terrible Thursday.
Poo on the ladder.
A sick voice on a video.It was already everything the page would turn out to be.
Chapter Two · 2016
RFPS Chronicles October 22: A Full House on a Saturday
October 22, 2016 was a Saturday, and the page did not take the weekend off.
In fact, nine posts survived from that one day.
The first one went up at one in the morning, and it was not even our bird.
It was Frankie, posted on behalf of a follower named Marsha, complaining that if the furkid had puppy school tomorrow, why was Frankie the one who had to take a bath tonight.
That is the 2015 idea from Chapter One, a year later, working exactly as planned.
By then, other people’s birds were on the main wall.
Ruffled Feathers Sanctuary History: Everybody Else Woke Up
Pearl Squirrel hoped everyone had a great day. That was Tara, at six in the morning.
At ten, Magic delivered a Neil Gaiman quote about magic, dreams, and good madness, with my usual disclaimer: first said however by Neil Gaiman.
At two, Larry Bird wanted out of the bird room and was pigging out in the community food bowl.
Four o’clock brought a photo of Rosie and three words: “You too Rosie.” However, whatever Rosie said first did not survive. Two hundred and seventeen people liked it anyway. Rosie has always had a following, after all.
At six, Baby was enjoying her vacation at what Tara called the Harmon bird resort.
In between, I posted another bird and asked people to name it, because I love how this one makes itself look.
Evening Conversations With Raptor
Shannon signed this one.
That is the whole caption. Four words and a name.
We do not know what Raptor said back. Shannon did not write it down, so the Chronicle will not guess. Still, we know it was a conversation and that it lasted a minute.
Ninety-six people liked it, which tells you the conversation was better than the caption.
How I Wrestled That Mean Ole Bear and Won
Bear was a little bird with a reputation, so I called him mean ole Bear.
On October 22 I posted a video of what I called wrestling him and winning.
I apologized for the ink from a busted pen on my pants and for the Molly bird screaming in the background.
Then I wrote the part that actually mattered: this little bird has opened up to me. I think he has decided we will be friends now.
And then: I’m falling in love with him already, but heck, don’t I fall for them all?
I do. It is not a secret and it is not a weakness. It is the job.
I’m falling in love with him already, but heck, don’t I fall for them all?
What Most People Saw
A man playing with a small bird on his lap.
What We Saw
- A bird who came in with a reputation
- A bird choosing to stay on a lap instead of leaving it
- Rough play that was play, not fear
- The moment a bird decides a person is not a threat
Other people’s birds on the main wall.
Our birds in the community bowl.
A little bird named Bear choosing to be friends.The house was full, and it was Saturday.
Chapter Three · 2017
RFPS Chronicles October 22: The Morning Shift Belonged to Tara
By October 22, 2017, the page had a rhythm, and most mornings the rhythm was Tara.
Six in the morning: “Look who is awake already. It’s Misty!” A pretty girl ready to get out and snuggle before all the other babies woke up.
Two in the afternoon: Baby was back for another visit and was hanging out in Kiki’s cage. Kiki got close to her for a minute before heading off to do other things. Kiki is really protective of his cage, Tara wrote, so I guess he approves of Baby.
Six in the evening: Barbara bird was doing great and looking healthier. She had been stepping up for Brad and hanging outside her cage when the other birds were around.
Three posts. Three birds. Three small pieces of news that look like nothing and were everything.
Ruffled Feathers Sanctuary History: Ray and Tolstoy
Meanwhile, Ray had moved on from hating Thursdays.
Two years later, he was quoting Anna Karenina on a Sunday morning.
I wrote that I did not know about perfect, but Ray sure was beautiful. A gorgeous bird on a gorgeous fall day.
Same bird. Same date. Different year. Better attitude.
Please Enjoy This Message From Kiki
Kiki was getting loud in the aviary and wanted a change of scenery.
Because he can fly, Tara put him in a cage near her while everyone was outside.
He then decided he was ready to go inside, and said so, at a volume Tara described with a warning to turn down your sound.
“I wish I could turn down the sound in real life,” she wrote.
Nine years later, nobody has found that button.
RFPS Chronicles October 22: Two Sweet Babies, No Names
On my personal page that afternoon, there was a different kind of post.
Two sweet babies had been dumped at the motel the day before. No names, no history, no information, and nothing with them.
I wrote that I could not let them go through life nameless and asked for suggestions.
Thirty comments came back.
However, I am not going to pretend to remember which names won. The surviving post does not say, and the Chronicle does not guess.
Misty was up first.
Ray quoted Tolstoy.
Kiki wanted inside.And two birds with no names found a page full of people ready to name them.
Chapter Four · 2018
RFPS Chronicles October 22: Conures in Her Hair
October 22, 2018 was a Monday, and it was a nice one.
I wrote that I did not know how many more nice fall days we were going to get, so we had better enjoy them while we could.
That is the entire post. Twenty-five likes. No drama.
After that, Tara took the rest of the day.
BB on Top of Her Cage
At two o’clock Tara posted BB.
“BB is such a pretty girl. She’s having a fun day hanging out on top of her cage.”
A bird on top of her cage, in the open, choosing to be out, is a bird who is comfortable.
Tara knew that. Of course, she did not need to explain it. She just posted the pretty girl.
Bear Bryant Wanted to Snuggle
At six that evening, Bear Bryant wanted to snuggle.
Tara wrote that all the conures love to hide in her hair.
Then she added the line that makes this post a keeper: “Misty loves to poop in it but that’s a story for another day.”
It has been eight years. So far, the story has not been told.
Therefore, the Chronicle is formally requesting it.
Misty loves to poop in it but that’s a story for another day.
A nice fall day.
BB on her cage.
Bear Bryant in the hair.Sometimes the whole record of a day is that everybody was comfortable.
Chapter Five · 2019
RFPS Chronicles October 22: The Day Misty Waited in the Truck
October 22, 2019 was a Tuesday, and it was the busiest October 22 in the archive.
It started at the vet.
Lucy had a prolapse. As soon as Dr. Schwartz walked into the room, she sucked it back inside. She did not want another surgery, I guess. Dr. Schwartz scared her straight.
With anesthesia and birds it is always a worry, so I was glad we did not need it right then.
Then, the second he left the room, she jumped into my lap and said I love you.
A lot of people think parrots just mimic.
When Lucy says I love you, she knows what she is saying and she means it.
When Lucy says I love you, she knows what she is saying and she means it.
RFPS Chronicles October 22: Then the Calls Started
At 3:35 that afternoon I posted an apology.
Tara’s phone was not working right, I had gotten so busy I forgot to make her two o’clock post for her, and here was Misty, waiting with me to go capture a Great Horned Owl.
She had a busy day, I wrote, but she loves to go along when daddy is helping animals.
However, what the sanctuary page did not say was how busy.
That night, on my personal page, I posted Misty again and said the animals I made it to were in the comments, with a warning that some of them were graphic.
The comments survived. Until now, they had never been put in one place.
RFPS Chronicles October 22: The Story Behind the Photo
What Most People Saw
A photo of Misty in the truck and a caption about catching an owl.
What We Saw
- A raptor in an electric fence, which can kill the bird or the person untangling it
- An animal already dead on a quiet road because nobody moved it
- A raccoon that might be distemper, which changes how you handle everything after it
- A species we had never had in hand before
- A cardinal, because the small ones count too
- A dog in the passenger seat the entire time
Personal Reflection
I Tried but Nobody Would Help
Of everything in this edition, that is the line that stayed with me.
The owl was dramatic. The rail was interesting. The cardinal was beautiful.
But the one on the quiet road did not need a rescuer. It needed one person, earlier, to move it out of the lane.
Most of what I do is not heroic, though. It is just being the person who stops.
I still wish somebody had stopped before me.
Meanwhile, Back at the House
Meanwhile, lunch that day was a bird fact.
For years people thought hummingbirds and swifts had no feet, because they are so small and spend so much time in the air. They were filed under a group called Apodiformes, which is Latin for “no feet.”
I posted that at noon, between the vet and the owl, which tells you something about how the day went.
And at eleven that night, with everyone home, I wrote that there is always time for the evening to go to the birds. We keep them up late just so we can play. They sleep late too, and I suggested it was about time these lazy birds got jobs and started earning their keep around here.
They have not.
Lucy said I love you.
An owl, a raccoon, a rail, a cardinal.
One we could not save.And Misty waited in the truck through all of it.
Chapter Six · 2020-2021
RFPS Chronicles October 22: Pina Coladas and Old Man Bear
Two years. Two posts. Both of them about somebody being happy.
On October 22, 2020, at 10:26 at night, Tara posted five photos of Ray Ray and a confession.
“If you like Pina Coladas and singing to Ray Rays. I’m not into yoga but I’ll drink some champagne. We like to change words to songs. Lol.”
Ray, from Chapter One, who hated Thursdays. Ray, from Chapter Three, who quoted Tolstoy. Now Ray Ray, being serenaded with a song that had been rewritten for him.
The same bird, five years and three chapters later.
We like to change words to songs.
Old Man Bear
One year later, October 22, 2021, the Bear in the archive is not a bird.
He was an old dog, deaf and mostly blind, and he had been so matted that being touched hurt.
I posted three photos of him with the mats finally gone and wrote that he looked like a young dog again.
“When you are deaf and mostly blind, touch is almost your whole life. Touch feeling good can make all the difference.”
He loved it when people petted him now instead of being scared it would hurt.
Old man Bear was going to have the relaxing life of a city inside dog from then on.
What Most People Saw
A freshly groomed old dog.
What We Saw
An animal whose only remaining sense had been turned into a source of pain, getting it back.
A song with the words changed.
An old dog with the mats gone.Two years, two posts, and both of them about comfort.
Chapter Seven · 2022
RFPS Chronicles October 22: The Visitor on the Fence
October 22, 2022 was a Saturday night, and I had a visitor while I was putting the chickens to bed.
An opossum.
The outside birds are all protected, except the larger geese and ducks, who sleep wherever they want. I chased her up onto the fence, and there she froze, for a good thirty minutes.
Yanking her down would have been easy. So would doing whatever I wanted to her.
I did not need to hurt her.
She was a good opossum, just looking for something to eat, and I could not fault her for that.
She May Even Be One I Released
That is the part of the post that surprised me reading it back.
My release spot is about a mile from the house, close enough that I can still drop food off while the animals adjust.
So the opossum on my fence may have been one I raised and let go.
Still, she could not get to the birds. After the dogs patrolled the yard a couple of nights, I was sure she had moved on.
I closed the post by telling everyone to keep their eyes open for late night visitors, welcome or unwelcome.
Four years later we are running a whole Halloween series about a thing in the yard. This is where it started.
The Same Night, Pokey and Tasha
A few hours before the opossum, I had posted a video on my personal page that I think is one of the best things in this whole edition.
When I filmed them, Pokey was an umbrella cockatoo in his seventies, from Detroit.
Tasha was a very temperamental lesser sulphur crested cockatoo from here in Louisville. She was not a fan of me either.
But when I told her we were going outside, she turned into a sweet bird who did what she was told and did not bite until she was back in her cage again.
They would not let me get close to film them. They were being secretive that day.
I caught them anyway.
One of the highlights of my life is watching elderly, abused, and handicapped birds find love again.
The opossum on the fence got to leave.
Pokey and Tasha got to stay.In the end, both of them were the right answer.
Chapter Eight · 2024-2025
RFPS Chronicles October 22: D.O.G., Mango, and the Date the Robot Got Wrong
Nothing survived from October 22, 2023. The timeline says so, and so does this chapter.
Then, in 2024, a dog.
D.O.G. was found running down Dixie Highway. Not one person posted about missing her or appeared to be looking for her.
She was a clean, well-kept dog. Somebody had loved her enough to teach her to sit, and then somebody had thrown her away like she never mattered.
Thankfully she ran down the right stretch of the highway, and Tara got her.
A Couple of Weeks With a Dog in a House Full of Birds
I do not take dogs very often. After all, our house is crazy with animals.
But I was able to work with her for a couple of weeks, getting her used to all kinds of animals.
She was a little rough around the edges at first. She was smart, so she learned fast.
After her five-day stray hold was up she got fixed, got all her shots, and got her microchip. By the time the clinic could get her in, she had already done two day visits and two overnight visits with two different families.
On October 22, 2024, I was happy to report that she had a new place to call home, with a brand new family I knew for sure would never toss her out.
What the Old Owner Gave Her
A name we never learned.
A clean coat.
A sit command.
A stretch of highway.
What She Left With
A microchip, her shots, and a family that will never throw her away.
Mango, 2025
One year later, the first post of October 22, 2025 went up at five in the morning.
When Mango arrived, her feathers were thin and her spirit even thinner. Now she greets the sunrise with a chirp and a gentle nuzzle.
Every feather tells a story of hope. That was the headline, and for once the headline was not an exaggeration.
RFPS Chronicles October 22: The Date the Robot Got Wrong
Now the part I am keeping even though it is embarrassing.
Later that same morning, the sanctuary page posted “April 29 through the years: A global timeline.” That evening it posted a follow-up about the April 29 historical significance.
It was October 22.
Those were scheduled posts from an automated system, built for a different date, that fired on the wrong day. Eleven people liked the second one anyway, which is either very kind or proof that nobody reads the date.
Even so, the Chronicle keeps it in for one reason.
An archive that quietly deletes its own mistakes is not an archive. It is a brochure.
What Changed Between 2015 and 2025
In 2015 I was learning how a page works and posting a sick-voice video by hand at nine at night.
What the Record Shows
- four posts a day typed by Brad or Tara, then one or two, then scheduled ones
- a page that started with our birds and became a place for everyone’s
- dogs, opossums, rails, and raccoons alongside the parrots
What Did Not Change
An animal with nothing, and somebody deciding it mattered anyway.
An archive that quietly deletes its own mistakes is not an archive. It is a brochure.
A dog nobody came looking for.
A bird with new feathers.
A robot with the wrong date.All of it happened on October 22. All of it stays.
Quiet Heroes
RFPS Chronicles October 22: The People Between the Posts
Generally, rescue stories remember the person holding the animal.
October 22 remembers everybody else.
Somebody made the six o’clock post every morning.
Somebody talked to a raptor.
Somebody sent in a bird who did not want a bath.
Somebody walked into an exam room and scared a prolapse back where it belonged.
Somebody suggested thirty names for two birds who had none.
Somebody caught a dog on Dixie Highway.
Somebody took that dog home for good.
Images: Ruffled Feathers Parrot Sanctuary Inc. archive, October 22 across the years.
Tara
Tara wrote more October 22 posts than I did.
Pearl Squirrel at six in the morning. Larry Bird in the community bowl. Baby on vacation, then Baby in Kiki’s cage. Barbara stepping up. BB on her cage. Bear Bryant in her hair. Kiki yelling to come inside. Ray Ray and the Pina Coladas.
She also caught D.O.G.
If you only read my posts, you would think October 22 was mostly owls and sick days. Read hers, however, and you find out the sanctuary was running the whole time.
Shannon
Shannon appears exactly once in this edition, signing a one-minute video with four words.
Evening conversations with raptor.
That is enough to put her in the record. Somebody who sits down with a bird in the evening and talks to it is doing sanctuary work, whether or not anybody writes it up.
Marsha and Frankie
The first post of October 22, 2016 was not our bird. It was Marsha’s.
That matters more than it sounds. A year earlier I was still trying to figure out how to get other people’s birds onto the main wall. By 2016 they were opening the day.
Dr. Schwartz
Lucy’s prolapse went back in the moment he walked into the room.
Still, I am not going to claim that was a medical technique. I am going to claim that a vet who birds respect is worth more than the exam fee.
Baby’s Family
Baby came to stay with us twice on this date, in 2016 and 2017, while her people were away.
Boarding is not glamorous. But a family who knows where their bird will be safe, and a bird who knows the place well enough to visit Kiki’s cage, is a relationship the sanctuary built over years.
The People Who Named the Pair
Two birds with nothing. Thirty comments. We do not know which names stuck, but we know thirty people cared enough to try.
D.O.G.’s New Family
Two day visits, two overnights, and then home for good. Whoever you are, you fixed something somebody else broke.
The October 22 archive remembers a lot of animals.
It also remembers who was standing next to them.But none of us were doing this alone.
Around the World
RFPS Chronicles October 22 Beyond the Sanctuary
Every October 22 from 2015 to 2019 ended the same way: at eleven at night, a bird from somewhere else.
A cassowary in the Queensland rainforest.
A Little Penguin on the Australian coast.
A Keel-billed Toucan in Central America.
A Black Swan, once thought to be in league with the devil.
A Ptarmigan turning white for the Arctic winter.
Those were the Birds of the World posts. Five years, five continents’ worth of birds, all posted at the same hour after the sanctuary had gone to bed.
And in 2015, two snowy owls named Tundra and Glacier at the National Aviary, which is where this whole edition’s best joke came from.
Little Penguin
The only penguin that breeds in Australia, and unlike its relatives it lives in very small colonies. October 22, 2016.
Illustration: AI-generated for Ruffled Feathers Parrot Sanctuary Inc.
Keel-billed Toucan
One of about forty-three toucan species, with a huge bill that is remarkably light in construction. October 22, 2017.
Illustration: AI-generated for Ruffled Feathers Parrot Sanctuary Inc.
Black Swan
Smaller than the Mute Swan but with a wingspan over six feet. Country folk once thought its black plumage meant it was in league with the devil. October 22, 2018.
Illustration: AI-generated for Ruffled Feathers Parrot Sanctuary Inc.
The 2019 post went up at four in the afternoon instead of eleven, which, if you read Chapter Five, was the one day that year the eleven o’clock slot went to the lazy birds at home instead.
The Ptarmigan changes its whole wardrobe twice a year: white for snow, mottled brown for the summer tundra.
Camouflage, as a full-time job.
Five years, five continents’ worth of birds, all posted after the sanctuary had gone to bed.
Why the Eleven O’Clock Bird Mattered
Unlike everything else on the page, the Birds of the World posts were never about our birds.
They were about the idea that somebody who followed a parrot rescue in Louisville might also want to know what a cassowary was.
In 2015 I wrote that people told me they came to the page every day to learn. So the eleven o’clock bird was me taking that seriously.
Somebody’s wife learned what a snowy owl was. Somebody else learned what a cassowary was. That is the same job.
A cassowary in the rainforest.
A penguin on the coast.
A toucan, a swan, a ptarmigan in the snow.Every night at eleven, the page went somewhere else so the people reading it could too.
Looking Back
What RFPS Chronicles October 22 Preserved
Facebook was never supposed to be our filing cabinet, yet it became one.
We were posting Ray in bed.
Poo on a ladder.
A dancer we never named.
A sick-voice video.
Then ten years went by and all of it turned into evidence.
October 22, 2015
I wanted to let everyone know that I am getting better at how this whole page thing works
October 22, 2017
I need name ideas for this bonded pair. I can’t let them go through life nameless
October 22, 2023
No material recovered
October 22, 2025
April 29 through the years: A global timeline
posted on the wrong date, kept on the record
October 22, 2019
Misty is waiting on daddy to go capture a great horned owl.
in the comments are the animals I made it to try and help
Archival reconstruction based on recovered material. Dates and times are taken from the original posts. Panels are illustrative arrangements of real archive images and quotations.
Ruffled Feathers Sanctuary History: The Posting Clock
The archive preserved something I had forgotten: the schedule.
For years, the sanctuary page posted at six in the morning, ten, two, and six, with the Birds of the World post at eleven at night. Four sanctuary posts and one lesson, every day, by hand.
Tara usually had six and two. I usually had ten and six. When somebody’s phone broke, the other one apologized and covered.
By 2022 it was one post a day. By 2025 some of it was scheduled by a machine, and one day the machine got the date wrong.
Yet none of that was written down anywhere. Instead, the timestamps wrote it down for us.
First Said However By
Two of the October 22 posts have a bird delivering a quotation, followed by my little disclaimer: first said however by Neil Gaiman, first said however by Leo Tolstoy.
Until this edition, I had forgotten I did that.
I like that I did that. A bird can borrow a line, but somebody should still get the credit.
The same rule runs this whole Chronicle.
The Sign-Offs
Almost every post in this edition ends with a name. -Brad. -Tara. -shannon. Frankie (Marsha).
That was how a shared page kept honest about who was talking.
Ten years later it is how the Chronicle knows whose voice each memory belongs to.
The goal of the Chronicle is not to make the past look cleaner than it was.
Social media shared these moments.
So the Chronicle gives them somewhere to stay.Ten years of October 22 were one scroll away from disappearing.
Why We Started The RFPS Chronicles
Why RFPS Chronicles October 22 Matters
I would have told you I remembered Bear.
I did. A bird named Bear is hard to forget. What I did not remember was that I posted a video of wrestling him on October 22, 2016, or that I wrote that I was already falling in love with him.
I would have told you I remembered the owl day.
I did. What slipped away was that it was the same day Lucy scared her prolapse back in, and that the Virginia rail was the first one I had ever seen around here.
Memory kept the shape of the stories and lost the dates, the order, and half the names.
After all, memory is not a filing system.
I Do Not Want Them to Become “One of the Birds”
I do not want Barbara to become “one of the birds that settled in.”
I do not want Frankie to become “somebody’s bird from the page.”
I do not want D.O.G. to become “a dog we helped once.”
I do not want the animal on the quiet road to become nothing at all, which is what it was headed for.
The animals deserve better than that. So do Tara and Shannon and Marsha and the thirty people who sat down and thought up names.
What We Knew Then
The words, timestamps, photographs, and names exactly as they were typed on the day, by whoever had the phone.
What We Know Now
That Ray would still be here five years later. That Bear the dog would come after Bear the bird. That the opossum on the fence would turn into a Halloween series. That the robot would get a date wrong.
The important part is keeping those two things separate.
Still, we can add context without rewriting the past.
The Chronicle Is Not a Repost
Anybody can share an old post, of course.
The Chronicle starts there and then does the part a share cannot: it puts the 2015 Ray next to the 2020 Ray, the 2016 Bear next to the 2021 Bear, and the 2015 post about figuring out the page next to the 2016 morning when Marsha’s bird opened the day.
That is what turns a scroll into a record.
Social media is built for now.
The Chronicle is built for later.And I do not want ten years of one date to disappear because we were busy living the eleventh.
Until the Next Call
RFPS Chronicles October 22 Ends. The Work Does Not.
Eventually you have to close the old posts.
The chickens need putting to bed.
Something is on the fence.
Something is running down Dixie Highway.
Somebody is going to leave two birds at the motel with no note.
The phone will ring again.
The Next Animal Does Not Know the History
The owl in the fence did not know about the owl before surgery in September.
D.O.G. did not know we had just finished with old man Bear.
Likewise, the next one will not know about any of them.
It only knows what is happening to it right now, and whether somebody stops.
The archive stops. The work does not.
Because somewhere outside the pages of the RFPS Chronicles October 22 edition, the next story has probably already started.Misty is already in the truck.
This Day in World History
RFPS Chronicles October 22 Beyond RFPS
October 22 has carried plenty of history outside the sanctuary too.
Here are four moments from the wider world that share the same date.
1797
The First Parachute Jump
André-Jacques Garnerin rose over Paris in a hydrogen balloon, cut himself loose at about 3,000 feet, and came down under a silk canopy. It swung badly. He walked away. The birds in this edition, however, remain unimpressed.
Source: HISTORY: The First Parachutist
1883
The Metropolitan Opera Opens
The original Metropolitan Opera House opened on Broadway in New York with a performance of Gounod’s Faust. Kiki, who has also been described as loud, was not consulted.
1962
The Cuban Missile Crisis Goes Public
President Kennedy addressed the nation on television, announced the discovery of Soviet missile sites in Cuba, and ordered a naval quarantine of the island. For thirteen days the world held its breath.
Source: National Archives, DocsTeach: Cuban Missile Crisis, October 22, 1962
2008
India Launches Chandrayaan-1
India’s first mission to the Moon lifted off from Sriharikota. Its instruments later helped confirm water molecules on the lunar surface. Flight, it turns out, is not only for birds.
Source: ISRO: Chandrayaan-1
History comes in all sizes.
Parachutes. Opera houses. Thirteen days. The Moon.And, somewhere in Louisville, a cockatoo refusing to get out of bed on a Thursday.
Where Hope Takes Flight