One of my neighbors has a parrot. His name is Bertie. Or Bernie. Or it may even be, simply, Birdie. I’m not entirely sure, so let’s just call him Bertie. Much like every other parrot I have ever known, Bertie is obnoxious. It’s not his fault. That’s just how parrots are. They’re tiny tyrants who are tinier and more tyrannical, even, than cats. They demand attention and will let you know when they don’t believe they’re getting their due. Sometimes, they let you know while you’re giving them attention that you’re not doing it right, or that you’re not giving your full attention to them, or that you breathed wrong and now this attention is tainted and wrong and they’ll have none of it. So… yeah. Bertie is kind of a jerk.
Bertie lets us know he’s a jerk by shrieking. When we first moved in, I thought it was my neighbor’s kids, but no. It’s Bertie. Satori is fascinated by Bertie’s shrieks because she has no idea what might be out there in the world making this kind of noise. When Bertie is shrieking, Satori stares wide-eyed out the window, trying to understand what is happening and whether those shrieks mean the end times are coming. Today, the neighbor decided to bring Bertie out to enjoy the beautiful day a little. This pleased the tiny parrot king, so instead of shrieking, he spent the next half-hour or so making happy little burbling parrot sounds. (This sounds adorable, and it is, but it does not lessen the fact that a happy parrot is still a jerk.)
Satori, trying valiantly to stay upstairs and ignore the shrieking, was sent into uncontrollable spasms of… something. She came tumbling down the stairs – and I mean tumbling almost literally – and flung herself onto the radiator to find the source of the happy little burbling parrot sounds. She wasn’t able to locate the sounds and neither was I, because it appears that Bertie is about the size of a cockatiel and so nearly impossible to really get a good look at on someone’s shoulder across the street while not wearing my glasses. This perfectly illustrates the point of how obnoxious are parrots, though. This is not a huge bird, and yet he creates sounds that can be heard across the street and upstairs in the back of the house. Sometimes he can be heard through closed windows, both mine and the neighbor’s. Anyway, the happy little burbling parrot sounds pretty much broke Satori. When last I saw her, she was still staring out the front windows with her mouth slightly agape. Hopefully, she snaps out of it by dinner time.