I now own a bird.
While dating said ex-boyfriend I used to get very upset that the bird was kept in the kitchen (a room no one ever went in). I now know why it was kept there and why he never came to claim it.
This is the loudest, most obnoxious, most irritating bird I have EVER met. All day he taps on the cage. He does this other thing, that I'm pretty sure is him taking a metal cup to the bars of the cage. As soon as you turn on a light he tweets/screeches at what I can only describe as volume 11 levels. (Anyone who has seen Spinal Tap will understand that. If you don't get it, you need to watch Spinal Tap.) He chitters and whistles constantly. I seriously think the bird is afraid of exploding if he is quiet because often he is so loud and excited he sounds like he's freaking out because he has a bomb strapped to his chest. No matter how many insults or threats I hurl at him (like that I'm going to fry him or feed him to the bear) he will NOT be quiet! I don't think he has the ability.
And, yes, I am aware that I am referring to him as Bird. He has a name (Petey), but I'm pretty sure he doesn't know it. If he could talk (thank the Goddess he can't) he would probably tell you his name is SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!!!
A lot of ppl have asked me, "Why don't you just get rid of it?" My response? Because it's my bird. I don't have a better one than that. We have bonded. I will fully admit that, while I have a soft spot for animals, I am not an "animal lover." That is to say, I'm not on a quest to save all animals. I do not agree with animal abuse or treatment, while at the same time I do believe in animal experimentation. (I would also like to state that I TOTALLY agree with stupid human experimentation. We could weed out a lot of dingbats that way. I'm just saying...no one needs stupid ppl.) I do think of animals as innocents though. They are what they are. They run on instinct and what they are taught. Bad pets come from bad owners.
Wait...wasn't I talking about the bird? I believe I derailed.
Anyway, why would I offer to house the fuckhead if I were just going to give him away because he's annoying? Hell, if that were the way I thought I would never have had a meaningful relationship.
One of the first things D.J. asked, when we figured out I was going to be moving in with him, was, "Do you have to bring the bird?" (See? He knew. He had met the bird before.) And my answer was, "Yes. You get me, you get my bird. It's a package deal." And it really is. No matter how much the piece of cat-bait annoys me he has become a part of me and my life. It's a love hate relationship. I could just get done yelling for him to be quiet and turn around and deck someone for doing the same. That's MY bird. (Only I can be mean to him.)
My intent in writing this just to let you all know...If you see me sitting in a corner, rocking back and forth, bald and covering my ears, don't worry. I'm trying to escape from the bird without killing him. Or plotting how I really can feed him to the bear. One of those.