The first year of motherhood (to my human babies, not birdie babies) was terrifying. I made some mistakes along the way in that first year, and for about 21 years additional years after that. What made that irrelevant was the fact I never gave up, I always modified, I laughed a lot and never, ever lost faith in the relationship between myself and my children.
Welcome to Parrot Parenting 101.
That pretty much sums up sharing life with a companion parrot. There will be days we feel like GENIUS caregivers! There will be days we can't get the genie in the bottle, OR protect our blinds. There will be days we so wish we could just take off for a week and travel, and feel JUST a bit of regret. But then some birdy says "hi" in the background and THAT idea lasted maybe a nanosecond. BUT it did occur.
If you are here seeking information, affirmation, edification or clarity to the idea of having a bird join your home, or a current situation occurring with a bird or flock you already love, then you are pretty much where many of us are or have been at some time in the past. And that's okay. And I welcome you to our conversations.
Parrots (pick a color, pick a trait) are awesome. I'm biased. I'm proudly biased. I LOVE my feather babies. I love hearing them during the day laughing, flocking, eating, mumbling and flying in to land on my shoulder. I love their smell, their voices, their humor (oh yes, they are standup comedians, all of them) their loyalty, and their love for me. I love how a parrot knows when you are sick or sad, and offers pity through their own way. Felix says, "It's alright". Butters says, "Comehere", fly’s over and gives me a wet willie in my ear. It's hard to feel to sick or sad when you have a bird tongue in your ear.
Amidst all the conversations about proper food, proper care, proper cages, proper routines, proper every thing else on the menu, I DO want to proclaim the bodacious awesomeness that is a companion parrot properly loved in a home. A dog can't match it. A cat can't match it. The closest personality that describes a parrot is a child. A small child, at the age where everything is new, and wonderful and fun and amazing and fabulous and THEIRS!
They just don't grow up. But they keep you young in heart.
I can take life a bit too seriously. I am a type B+ personality. I LOVE production, producing results and art and ideas and books, and short stories, and a sanctuary called a home. I fall asleep creating and I wake up creating. My parrots keep me from getting too caught up in any one thing for any length of time.
Have a macaw land on your shoulder, lean over and say "HI!" cheerful and all beaky cute...then poop RIGHT down your back.
What was I trying to do again?
I don't know, Butters is sticking her tongue in my ear...I need to clean that poop or change my shirt. If I change my shirt I'll probably just have to change it again, maybe a wet paper towel...
I adore companion parrots! All of them. I adore every square inch of every piece of every personality. So while we all chat here about proper, correct, right, righteous, rescue, baby, senior and the like, I hope we can also take time to celebrate their bodacious awesomeness as well.
They are SO worth the work and the dedication.