ann
New member
- Feb 18, 2011
- 1,323
- 1
- Parrots
- 1 nanday conure Black Jack, 1 Brotogeris parakeet Whiff, 1 ring neck dove Eliza, and 6 society finches (3 are tame). RIP my parent pairs of societies and my little gouldian finches
Seriously. "Normal" people buy dogs, cats, and fish. Some even get bunnies or snakes. But we, the crazy people, choose to buy pets with beaks. Almost every parrot owner knows they are almost guaranteed to be bitten by their parrot. Some birds like macaws can snap broom sticks, yet we choose to buy them anyway. Of all the pets we could have, we choose the messy, loud, freakishly smart, demanding parrots. Instead of having an obedient dog, we would rather have a bossy toddler that bites. However, that isn't what makes us crazy. What really sets us apart is that we actually enjoy it. We love our birds, who just might be crazier than we are. every day we clean up after them. It's no secret that seed gets everywhere: in our clothes, other rooms of the house, even our own beds! I still find feather sheaths in my sheets. Yet every day, we come home, clean up, get pooped on, maybe bitten, and then we do it all again the next day. We spend hard earned money on toys that will be destroyed in a matter of hours or even sent to a soggy end in the water dish. As if that isn't enough, we go out and get even more birds! We all know that one eternal toddler isn't enough, no, we need more. What could be better than cleaning up after 1 parrot? Cleaning up after 5! Somehow these little terrors are too cute to turn down, and they know it. We are no match for their deceiving cuteness. If only we could see through the mask of fluffed-up feathers and big eyes, and into the manipulative, conniving, little minds our birds have. From day one, we are under their spell. We have been bitten by the bird bug and there is no turning back. Now, and forever, we are "bird people", the underground society of crazy bird people with loud houses, confused neighbors, and way too many cleaning supplies. We are the people with mysterious white stains on our clothes and beak marks on our shoes. In all fairness, we chose this, or maybe our birds chose us. Either way, this is our life. If that isn't crazy, I don't know what is.