little bird

We bought a parakeet a couple months ago, and just haven’t introduced him or her. I think it’s looking like he will be a he, which after naming him Melody would be, yeah, yeesh. But there you go and too late to change.


He came finger tamed, or at least not finger-biting, but still is pretty hesitant to sit on one’s finger. I can understand that, and I’d be the same way if someone 1000-times larger than me wanted me to sit on their finger. But we work for a few minutes every day, and he’s progressing a bit. I move him so he can be where I’m painting and we can talk to each other. It’s nice just to hear the chirping and chattering, and luckily he doesn’t squawk very often.

The cat gave us a scare the other week when he broke a tooth, but he was able to eat after a couple days. I’ve been saying there’s not much time left for him for years now. And yet he keeps going on.


I wish I still had the business card from the vet who saved his life back in 2001, because she would love to know he lived (at least) 12 years longer than she anticipated. I’m sure she’d like to put his photo up on her wall of miracles.

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