Path: utzoo!utgpu!news-server.csri.toronto.edu!bonnie.concordia.ca!nstn.ns.ca!news.cs.indiana.edu!mips!cs.uoregon.edu!milton!gwynne From: gwynne@milton.u.washington.edu (Kristan Geissel) Newsgroups: rec.birds Subject: Re: recognition Message-ID: <1991May31.224437.27565@milton.u.washington.edu> Date: 31 May 91 22:44:37 GMT References: <21828@brahms.udel.edu> Organization: University of Washington, Seattle Lines: 28 In article <21828@brahms.udel.edu> jms@brahms.udel.edu (John Milbury-Steen) writes: >Are you sure they are not simply doing a mechanical Pavlovian response, >such as "presence of this guy" means "food is on the way"? It may be >even more simple-minded, since they apparently will not recognize you >without the right jacket: "sight of red jacket" indicates "food is on >the way." > >Of course we all like to be loved, and it is normal to project gratitude >onto our bird friends, but a little positive conditioning could simulate >affection, could it not? > You're right, of course, as I pointed out in my story about the crow. But the first coot that I adopted went through stages of not recognizing the different coats to recognizing me - period. Also, it was the only one to respond to "Is that my coot?". I am not being facetious when I ask this: at what point does a Pavlovian response stop being that? Was it when we got past the different "feathers" or was it when it started recognizing my voice? Did I turn into an outsized, funny looking coot to it, with a different call or was it still merely fine tuning it's mechanical response to a higher scale? I still haven't been able to figure that out even having fed it now for three seasons. And regardless of it being a Pavlovian response or not, I will always treasure sitting on an old boat house with my coot snoozing at my feet. Any bird psychologists out there who could answer the question posed above? :) Kristan Geissel