Once upon a time, a bird found me. That's right, I didn't find a bird, a bird found me. After walking in the back gate after work one day, I walked under a tree and heard, "Hello." Ok, who's playing a trick on me, or saying hello from an upstairs window? No one. Wow, that's a bright colored bird in that there tree. Not a typical finch that I normally see. "Hello." Oh crap, it's the bird talking to me.
After calling my brother and telling him there's a parrot looking bird in our tree, I stood watch. Chris rushed home, and we figured how to get the bird out of the tree.
Pablo, as we named him, became one of the family. We found a cage on e-bay. We bought him toys, and food, and treats. He was one of us. But the dogs didn't like him much.
He even learned things from us. One day, he nipped at my finger and I called him a "mean son of a bitch". He then mimicked me for a couple minutes, "son of a bitch, son of a bitch." Oh, it was good fun.
He was a fairly good bird. And we miss him. Due to lack of... responsibility... Pablo got loose and bad things happened. I won't go into details.
And that was a fun chapter in my life.
1 comment:
I claim responsibility for Pablo's death. However I believe I was being told to do something else as I was changing his water.
PS: I have really scary eyebrows in that picture.
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