First we inherited a Parakeet from a friend. His name was Casey. But we never actually clipped his wings, and one day he just flew straight out the door and we couldn't get him out of the tree before dark.
Then, we had another one, this time a Blue parakeet, named CJ. He was incredibly antisocial, so we took him back to the breeder and picked up another one, whose name was affectionately Birdbrain. He was the first/only bird that actually accepted/tolerated me. But then we got word from a member of my mom's church that her cockatiel was becoming depressed—he had been living with a lot of parakeets but they all died of old age. Well, we had a parakeet at the time, so we took 'im. The problem was, Birdbrain was a huge bully to Dallas, as the cockatiel was called. If anything, he sank into deeper depression. Then, my dad was doing work one morning and Birdbrain fluttered right under his foot as he was taking a step. His paper grave is still standing in my backyard. So now we only have Dallas.
Really? I must have understood.
Then, we had another one, this time a Blue parakeet, named CJ. He was incredibly antisocial, so we took him back to the breeder and picked up another one, whose name was affectionately Birdbrain. He was the first/only bird that actually accepted/tolerated me. But then we got word from a member of my mom's church that her cockatiel was becoming depressed—he had been living with a lot of parakeets but they all died of old age. Well, we had a parakeet at the time, so we took 'im. The problem was, Birdbrain was a huge bully to Dallas, as the cockatiel was called. If anything, he sank into deeper depression. Then, my dad was doing work one morning and Birdbrain fluttered right under his foot as he was taking a step. His paper grave is still standing in my backyard. So now we only have Dallas.
Really? I must have understood.
