It just occured to me this is probably the perfect place to share a very short story.
The other week I was at my favorite bird store, and I was standing at checkout buying some bird toys. All of a sudden I feel a whisper of something against my ankle bone. You know the feeling-- when your hair unexpectedly brushes an unusual area of skin and you freak out thinking it's a spider. Thankfully I have 17 years of living with parrots, so I ignored the urge to kick my foot, and looked down to see a little red Eclectus face peering up at me. It had been on an open playset maybe 10 feet away and had somehow ended up on the ground. For whatever reason, the bird had chosen me to waddle over to and poke my ankle to express 'Excuse me ma'am, I need help.'
I knelt down and stuck out a finger and it hopped right on, and I put it back on the playset. It was an absolutely adorable experience. Poor thing was probably several months old, and very sweet.
(Well, sweet to me. I went back a few days later with a relative who got her hand bitten hard enough to bleed by the bird when she tried to get it to step up for her. My story had instilled a false confidence in her about handling the unknown bird with a large beak. Whoops!)
The other week I was at my favorite bird store, and I was standing at checkout buying some bird toys. All of a sudden I feel a whisper of something against my ankle bone. You know the feeling-- when your hair unexpectedly brushes an unusual area of skin and you freak out thinking it's a spider. Thankfully I have 17 years of living with parrots, so I ignored the urge to kick my foot, and looked down to see a little red Eclectus face peering up at me. It had been on an open playset maybe 10 feet away and had somehow ended up on the ground. For whatever reason, the bird had chosen me to waddle over to and poke my ankle to express 'Excuse me ma'am, I need help.'
I knelt down and stuck out a finger and it hopped right on, and I put it back on the playset. It was an absolutely adorable experience. Poor thing was probably several months old, and very sweet.
(Well, sweet to me. I went back a few days later with a relative who got her hand bitten hard enough to bleed by the bird when she tried to get it to step up for her. My story had instilled a false confidence in her about handling the unknown bird with a large beak. Whoops!)
