To begin with, Ptak, my parrotlet, and I were playing a game of Hoard the Paper
and I was working. It looks a little bit like this:
When he inevitably decided that Hoard the Paper meant: Eat the Human’s Book, my boyfriend found himself prying a small blue bird off the pages of his novel. I should add here that most bird owners know this common rule: ‘What’s mine is mine, what’s yours is mine, and if you’re interested in it, it’s also mine.’ Obviously, this means that by Avian Law, the book was intended for Ptak to destroy. He spent most of the next hour attempting to reach the novel in question.
O. hastily turned the game into a completely new one. It’s very simple. It involves setting a small blue bird at your feet (whilst in bed, of course, all our best work is done in bed) and lying back quickly, so the bird runs to your face/the book.
Over, and over, and over again.
He quickly tired of
waddling running once he realised that, upon reaching the glorious shreddable pages of his book, human fingers would scoop him up and deposit him right back where he began. Never the less, it was still very much a game and it lasted for ages more than most do.
When it ended (as it must), Ptak spent some time doing the usual things: shuffling around looking for the missing sunflower seeds, finding millet and devouring that instead, and pulling keyboard keys off my laptop. When this itself failed to appeal, he climbed up my boyfriend’s pillow, nestled into his hair, and went to sleep.
Can you say, ‘AWW’?
I, of course, was not in the least jealous, and did not give the lads any kind of grief. 😉
It was the cutest thing… Except, perhaps, for this afternoon, when Mishka decided that my company was superior even to that of the curtain rail. When did this happen?! We’ve worked long and hard to convince her that humans are not TERRIFYING (you have to think it in caps), but for her to fly to my hand, shuffle around my arms/shoulders/back, all while showing interest in the rest of the room… And then, just to be extra adorable, she nestled into my shoulder and began to preen while I worked.
Owning birds is definitely worth every bite, scream, and destroyed you-name-it, even if I do say so myself.
And just to round off the post: