What happens to exotic pets that outlive their owners?

Parrots and tortoises are flooding animal-rescue organizations around the country as many owners fail to make arrangements for their long-lived species.

A small white bird sits on a mans shoulder his hand gently holds its body as it looks at the camera.
Gene Bordeaux, a staff member at Oasis, a parrot rescue in rural Arizona, cuddles Sunny, a lesser sulphur-crested cockatoo. “She is a Velcro bird. You have to peel her off of you,” he says. Cockatoos can live up to 60 years.
BySadie Dingfelder
Photographs byChristie Hemm Klok
December 6, 2024

Louisa Jaskulski died in her sleep in 2023 at 77, just a few days after having what seemed, at first, to be successful heart surgery. When she insisted on going home to be with her animals instead of transferring to a rehabilitation facility, her family and friends were concerned.

“The day before she passed away, I came in that morning and she was in the cage with Travis, a lorikeet. I was like, ‘What are you doing out of bed? Look at your feet, they are all swollen up,” says her friend, Shaun Dyson. “She cared more about them than she did herself. I think that was her downfall.”

Jaskulski, of Sedona, Arizona, was survived by four fan-tailed pigeons, three Amazon parrots, three lorikeets, a pair of finches, two desert tortoises, a bearded dragon, and a blue-tongued skink—all rescues.

“For me, the connection to birds and reptiles goes way deep,” she said in a 2020 interview. “When I look into the eyes of a parrot or finch or pigeon, or a lizard or snake or tortoise, I feel I am looking into the eyes of God.”

But when exotic pet owners die, where do their animals go? It’s a common yet often excruciating challenge for the nine million Americans who keep exotic pets. Keeping the animals in the family is ideal, but there’s no guarantee they'll want to take on the responsibility of being, essentially, an amateur zookeeper. (Read why you should never release exotic pets into the wild.)

A woman with pale skin stands outdoors next to the back of minivan. She is looking pensively at bird cages on the ground as a man with pale skin lifts a birdcage into the vehicle.
Twelve birds, including three Amazon parrots, arrive at their destination of San Mateo, California, following a long journey from Sedona, Arizona, in October 2023. The birds’ owner, Louisa Jasksulski, died without having a plan for who would inherit her animals, prompting Sarah Lemarié, CEO of Mickaboo, a parrot rescue in San Jose, California (above left), to take them. Jasksulski's friend, Shaun Dyson (right), helped Lemarié handle the birds. The trek included driving 10 hours through a dust storm to a motel in North Palm Springs. “It was a pet-friendly motel, but I don’t think it was that pet friendly,” Lemarié quips. The birds will be fostered and then adopted through Mickaboo.

A parrot problem

Jaskulski left few concrete plans for who would inherit her animals—perhaps because she knew she could count on her animal rescue friends to sort it out. The hardest to place were the parrots and the tortoises, long-lived animals that can be demanding pets.

LIMITED TIME OFFER

Discover More, Spend Less
With new subscriber-exclusive stories published daily and complete archive access, your opportunities to explore are endless!

Parrots, which live 70 years or more, often start out fairly personable, but often become ornery and difficult when they reach sexual maturity, which is anywhere from ages one to six, depending on the species, says Sarah Lemarié, CEO of Mickaboo, a parrot rescue based in San Jose, California. “For every parrot that's friendly with people, there's a whole bunch that bite and scream" because they're afraid of humans, she says. 

As highly intelligent, social animals, parrots also need a lot of interaction and stimulation, a roomy cage with lots of toys, and supervised time outside of their cage at least twice a day, Lemarié says.

A tortoise walks towards its owner a woman with pale skin bends holding a bowl outdoors with a white hat on.
Reptile rescuer Kay Ross (pictured) recently discovered that her 22-pound radiated tortoise, Missy, is actually a male. That's good news, as males don't grow as large as females. Radiated tortoises, which are critically endangered in their native Madagascar, can live to be over a hundred years old. Ross, 68, hasn’t yet figured out who will care for Mister after she dies.
A tortoise stands over a large piece of watermelon with juice dripping from its face.
A man with pale skin bends down to grab a bucket.
When Bruce Robb met Flash, a sulcata, or African spurred, tortoise about 24 years ago, she fit in the palm of his hand. Now, she’s a 90-pound behemoth (above, Flash munches on watermelon in Sebastopol, California, in 2023). Like many new tortoise owners, Robb had no idea what he was getting into. “My ex-wife bought her for my son, Cody, from a pet store. He was caught up in the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles craze.” Cody left Flash behind when he moved out. “We never had any idea we'd have her this long. My son's 35 now, and I keep telling him, ‘You know, you're gonna end up with Flash coming back to you eventually.’”
A woman with pale skin has a white bird that perched on her arm she is center of the photograph and framed by leaves of a tree.
Laura Barnes-Kadi was 19 years old when she bought then-three-month-old Buttons, a sulfur-crested cockatoo, at a pet store for $1,500. Barnes-Kadi (pictured in 2024) is now 45 years old, Buttons is 26, and he is one of 23 birds in Barnes-Kadi’s cacophonous Concord, California, home. All the rest are rescues. “I've never bought a single bird ever again after Buttons, because there are so many that are homeless birds that need somewhere to go,” she says.
A room is filled with cages they are strewn across the the counter and surround the wall.
Lemarié has given over her dining room in San Mateo, California, to birds whose owners died or simply couldn’t deal with them anymore. Since 2013, Lemarié has fostered more than 431 birds. Often, people complain that their caged parrots being “aggressive,” Lemarié says, but that behavior is likely because they are scared or sexually frustrated. “Parrots are prey animals,” she says. “There’s no such thing as a killer parrot.”
From left the right a small white bird preched on the back of a person with pale skins hand on a blank background and a small cone around it's neck, a bird with bright green feathers and a yellow beak has small eyes, a white bird hs plucked feathers on int abdomen and a tall yellow crest.
From left to right a Bird with Green and red feathers and it's foot raised, a White bird with short plumes and plucked feather around it's body, a green bird with a small black beak.
From left to right:

Peaches, a roughly 25-year-old male Goffin's cockatoo, loves head scratches and prefers people to other parrots. When he came to Oasis, he had a chest wound due to self-mutilation, perhaps due to early-life trauma. He now wears a permanent e-collar and seems to have adjusted well to his new flock.
 
Lightning, a male eclectus parrot, is about 35 years old. He came to Oasis after his second owner died. Due to his advanced age, Lightning suffers from arthritis that makes perching difficult, so he lives in a special aviary with low perches and a soft floor.
 
Sunny, a 26-year-old Lesser sulphur-crested cockatoo, is a friendly gal. “She'll pick your keys out of your pocket and throw 'em on the ground. She's just really, really inquisitive about absolutely everything,” says animal keeper Alexis Bordeaux. Sunny came to Oasis after her owner died of cancer.
 
Erin, a female military macaw, is about 30 years old. She lived in four different homes before she landed at Oasis. Her last owner gave her up because she’d started attacking people and other pets.
 
Sassy, a male umbrella cockatoo, is about 28 years old. He was relinquished by his owner due to aggressiveness. He enjoys shredding phone books and being misted with water.
 
Twitch, a female severe macaw, is approximately 25 years old. She survived a highly contagious avian disease and now must live in the office, away from the other birds.
An avaiarey with colorful birds a woman stands in the center with a red shirt, there are panes covering the window and trees, rope, and hanging objects for the birds to perch on.
Janet Trumbule, executive director of Oasis, stands in the Macaw Aviary, a 4,000-square-foot outdoor enclosure in Benson, Arizona, that’s home to 33 macaws and six male domestic pigeons, many of them rescued from aging owners. She also has four parrots in her home—all rescues except for an African gray named Elmo, whom she bought 26 years ago. “Elmo is what we call the mistake bird. Many of us who own parrots at one point bought a baby bird. Now we know we should never buy baby birds,” she says.
A small green bird stands closely to a hand on a kitchen counter.
Twitch, a female severe macaw, can be aggressive, and as a result had nine homes during the first 11 years of her life. Now, the bird—a type of mini-macaw—is gentle with most people.
A cockatoo with white feathers over its body and a bit of red.
Cosmo, a 28-year-old female Moluccan cockatoo, was born with an abnormally small crop—an expandable pouch that holds food before it’s digested. Since she can’t hold as much food as a normal chick, founder Sybil Erden, the founder of Oasis, hand-fed her until she could feed herself. Because Cosmo destroys her feathers and can’t fly, she lives in a special aviary with low perches. She also has a penchant for chewing boots.
A building with an open window shows a woman holding deep metal dishes a young girl looks curiously through outside.
Oasis staff member Alexis Bordeaux prepares food for the sanctuary’s 800 birds with the help of Zoey Blair, 8, the daughter of Oasis employee Elizabeth Blair, in 2024. Meal prep takes a team of people and three to four hours of diligent work. Parrots receive a mixture of chopped seasonal vegetables, garbanzo beans, orzo pasta, quinoa, and rolled grains. Then, before serving, volunteers top it off with goodies, such as chopped melon and nuts.

While many parrots and tortoises are increasingly endangered in the wild, they are far too plentiful in captivity, says Janet Trumbule, CEO of Oasis, a parrot rescue in Benson, Arizona.

The problem worsened after the pandemic, when people began to give up the exotic animals they’d bought during lockdown.

“When people began traveling more, as we all got vaccinated and people went back out into the world, we had a wave of surrenders that was just like, we were so full, we were beyond full. And we’re still digging out. Right now, we've got 30 to 40 [parakeets] waiting to come in and probably 80 to 90... in foster care.” (Read why so many people want to own exotic pets.)

When breeders realize how unhappy exotic birds often are in captivity, they quit and join the rescue community. “But in the meantime, they've contributed to the problem and encouraged a bunch of their friends to get into it as well,” Lemarié says.

A tortoise sits under a beach umbrella outdoors.
Mister, formerly Missy, now lives a pampered life in Pacifica, California, where he enjoys water features and an umbrella to escape the heat, as pictured in 2023. Ross rescued the now 10-year-old radiated tortoise when a nearby pet store closed.

Tortoise trouble

Tortoises are a particular challenge. Often sold at pet stores when they are small and cute, radiated and sulcata tortoises quickly become behemoths that require roomy, fenced-in yards, year-round warm temperatures, and wheelbarrow-loads of food. 

As the pandemic has lifted, tortoise rescues have seen a major uptick in people trying to get rid of their ill-considered pets, says Katie Rickon, founder of Tortoise Acres, a hundred-acre rescue in Anderson, California. “We turn away 20 to 30 tortoises away weekly for lack of space,” Rickon says. 

Compounding the problem are tortoises’ long lives—they can live to 150 years and beyond.  

“My advice for people who have tortoises is to put them in their will who they want them to go to and discuss it with the person they are leaving them to,” says Amanda Ebenhack, a wildlife rehabber at Central Florida Wildlife Center Inc., a six-acre rescue in Okeechobee, Florida.

Both Ebenhack and Rickon house their female and male tortoises separately to prevent breeding.

Planning ahead 

For anyone considering adopting a rescue parrot or another long-lived exotic, Lemarié urges potential owners do extensive research about how to keep these animals safe and relatively content in captivity.

Also, know in advance what will happen to them after you die, Trumbule says.

A woman with pale skin looks upward at a white bird sitting on top of a white cage.
Lemarié brought Petey, a lesser sulfur-crested cockatoo, into her San Mateo home after his owner died in 2023. Because the bird, in his 20s, can be aggressive toward women, he’s been hard to place with a permanent owner. “He wants attention and company and enrichment—things to do, people to dance with, toys to play with,” she says. “If I walk past him without acknowledging him, he'll say 'Hi Petey' to get my attention.”

“I've done an estate plan and my birds will come to the sanctuary for the rest of their life,” she says. “More and more pet owners are doing that, not just for birds, but for any kind of animal that they have. But it's really critical with animals you know are going to outlive you.”

Christa Chadwick, vice president of shelter services for the ASPCA, notes in an email that the nonprofit offers planning resources for owners adding pets to estate plans. (See more photos of exotic pets in everyday homes.)

“Once pets come into our lives, they become vital members of our families, giving and receiving love, companionship, and support,” Chadwick says.

"So it’s important to ensure uninterrupted care should we become incapable of caring for them ourselves.”