Various animals have an intelligence we are quite ignorant of. For instance, this link below shows you the intelligence of cats:
This post is about a parrot. His name is Zorro. He is an African Grey. He hates me.
Parrots are well known for their interaction with humans. Zorro should get a job as a negotiator. He is intelligent, talks a load of old rubbish (he copies me) and always seems to get what he wants. What he wants is generally what I am eating.
While doing things earlier (I won’t say what. It is hard enough to keep people’s attention as it is), I look up and he has my phone in his claw. I am not sure if he was taking a chunk out of it, or calling some avian sex chat line. Either way, he was out of his cage, and he shouldn’t be. The problem with this is that he doesn’t like me. And he won’t go back in his cage if I ask politely. If I go near him I could lose a finger or more. So we play the crisp game. He loves salt and vinegar crisps, so I open a pack to try coaxing him back in the cage.
So he is now out of his cage and eating my tasty snacks. To get him back in should be as easy as putting more snacks in his cage. Nope. He is too clever for that as he knows he will get locked back in if he takes the bait. Instead he flies over and sits on my shoulder. He likes ears, so I am now cowering like a dog hoping to not lose any flesh to an animal which is smaller than my head. I don’t want any comments about how big my head is thankyouverymuch.
Therefore he has gone from being locked in his cage to being out of his cage, sitting on my shoulder eating my snacks. So he takes a crap. I am not winning this battle. I am now going to have a high phone bill from his avian sex chat line call he was making, there is a dent made in my snacks and now I have to change my shirt.
As if it is not bad enough that he is out, let alone the fact I am covered in crap and watching him eat my tasty snacks, now I hear the pattering of tiny footsteps. Here comes Charlie the cat.
Cats like birds. There is no denying that. There is a look of “No way…dinner is finally out of the wrapper!” on Charlie’s face when prompted with the site of Zorro sitting on my shoulder eating crisps. If I shout to scare the cat, I am going to lose flesh from Zorro, or he is going to fly off meaning the cat will follow.
Fortunately being sleepy she wasn’t too bothered with Zorro and makes nothing more of it other than looking on, probably laughing inside at my predicament.
Zorro only bonds with 1 person, of which that person is my wife. She can pick him up, stoke him, put makeup on him and generally throw him about the place without fear of reprisal 99% of the time. But she is at work, so I ring her and she tells me to deal with it. Currently in my head, “dealing with it” involved a bat of some kind.
After what seems like 2 multipacks of crisps, he finally goes in the cage for a nap as he is so full.
Therefore, in the space of twenty very very long minutes, he negotiated his way out of his cage somehow and then fed himself silly on my food while taking a satisfying crap on me, and then went back in the cage for a nap after his hearty meal.
But I still have no idea how he got out.
I on the other hand gained nothing. In fact, I lost quite a bit out of this little adventure.
Stuff it. I’m getting a goldfish.
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