Harlem, Ga. — Sweet little Bailey arrived from Florida after Mom and Dad divorced. Spaghetti-loving Peaches flew from Alaska with an infected leg and mounting medical expenses. And Charles, aka "Honker," landed here because he was ear-splitting loud and no one else could tolerate the noise.

But these parrots have safe refuge at a 2,000-square-foot canary-yellow house off a dirt road, a place where more than 550 unwanted exotic birds call home. Some are blind or missing wings and legs. Inside the house, the exotic birds screech, coo, and make car-alarm-like sounds.

Photos by LOUIE FAVORITE / Staff (ENLARGE)

Ron Johnson gives some TLC to Kiwi, a sulfur-crested cockatoo, one of 550 unwanted birds at Feathered Friends Forever.

(ENLARGE)

What's the gossip? These macaws might know. They and other harsh-voiced birds can squawk as loudly as they wish at Feathered Friends Forever, where Ron and Tammy Johnson are used to the bird sounds.

RELIES ON DONATIONS Feathered Friends Forever is a Georgia-licensed animal shelter that has passed all annual inspections, according to the Georgia Department of Agriculture. It relies on donations, which are about $1,600 a month, and an annual fund-raiser in May called, "Birdiestock." OPEN FOR VISITS Feathered Friends Forever, near Augusta, is open to the public Thursday through Sunday, 11 a.m. to 5 p.m. For more information, go to www.featheredfriendsforever.org or call the rescue group at 706-556-2424.

"What noise?" says Ron Johnson of the deafening noise. "I guess to other people, it's obnoxious. But we're used to it."

Extreme bird lovers Ron and Tammy Johnson created Feathered Friends Forever in 1998, starting with just five birds, including two lovebirds abandoned by a neighbor.

While cat and animal shelters are numerous, bird rescue groups are rare — particularly of this magnitude.

Word quickly spread about Feathered Friends Forever.

"Gismo," a rainbow lorikeet, is here temporarily while his owner is on assignment in Iraq. A recovering alcoholic who couldn't take care of herself — let alone a needy bird named "Happy"— dropped off her umbrella cockatoo a couple years ago. And quite a few birds share the same back story as "Willy," a sulfur-crested cockatoo.

"A lot of people don't realize the noise or mess related to having a bird," said Ron Johnson. "So you have a lot of situations where the husband says, 'It's me or the bird.' "

The sanctuary also enjoys volunteers and fans who travel from visiting states.

"The first time I visited, I just sat and cried. Ron walked out there and all of those birds flocked to him like 'He's my daddy.' I have never seen anyone with such a connection to birds," said Rosemarie Gann of Gainesville, Fla., who visits the bird sanctuary every few months.

Faced with an expanding flock, the Johnsons built a house last year that looks like an oversized birdhouse — complete with vaulted ceilings and tin roof.

"They love the sound of the rain hitting the tin roof," said Johnson. Of course, the Johnsons live there, too.

It takes about six hours a day to feed the birds; three days to clean the cages.

But there's plenty of time to play, too. On a recent afternoon, Ron pulled out an Easy Cheese can and squeezed out some on a pretzel for "Caesar," a blue-fronted amazon.

"Gimme four!" said Johnson as he put out his hand.

"Our goal is to let birds be birds," he said.