Just so you understand how things are, Winston is really in charge. That's why his picture, cartoon or otherwise, has to be on all my website pages.

This page is dedicated to him. I love my bird. But I would be doing my readers a disservice if I encouraged everyone to run out and buy a parrot.

Parrots are the kind of pet that should not be owned by people who haven’t done any research—as you will see by what I have to say. I’m not talking about little pet store parakeets. I’m talking about a true parrot. And owning a big bird is not the same as owning a cat or a dog. Not at all. It’s my opinionated opinion that anyone considering a parrot—especially the larger varieties—should research thoroughly. Find someone who owns one and go visit.

If you’ve never had the privilege of being around an African Grey, you’re in for an education. As parrots go, they are superior. Just ask them. They are also stand-offish and not usually cuddly. I've read that they don't socialize with other species of parrots, only their own kind. I'm not sure. I don't own other birds. I do know that African Greys are known to be opinionated, demanding, and (some scientists have declared) have the intelligence of two to four year old children.

The jury is still out on that one, at least as far as I’m concerned. To me, that’s like comparing apples and oranges. An animal can be extremely intelligent, but can never be human.

However, Winston thinks he is. At least, I think that he thinks he is.

I mentioned on my biography page that anyone who has a parrot for a pet is odd. I really believe that. Oddness is required to tolerate the idiosyncrasies of a large bird. Parrots are loud, messy, and hormonal. The loud part is probably obvious. As large parrots go, African Greys are among the quieter species. That doesn’t mean QUIET—just QUIETER. The difference is that most African Greys talk instead of just shrieking all day. They tend to talk and blabber a lot. They imitate almost everything they hear on a regular basis. (People who swear on a regular basis should not get an African grey unless they want to hear their swear words from a bird’s beak, ad nauseam, for the rest of their lives.) African greys also imitate all the sounds they hear. Sirens, squealing doors, phone rings, computer sounds, burps, water trickling, coffee makers. . .and if your African grey is near the bathroom, you can expect he will imitate those sounds, too. Ask me how I know.

They also do a fine job of imitating coughs. Some days Winston sounds like he’s going to die from pneumonia the way he hacks and carries on. (Birds do not get bronchial diseases like humans. They never cough as a sign of real sickness.)

The messy part of owning a parrot is. . .messy. Parrots poop, shred stuff, and generally make a mess of wherever they are. Winston is “sort of” potty trained. That means he doesn’t like to poop in his big sleeping cage, as long as I get him out at reasonable intervals. He poops on command. For instance, if I hold him over the toilet and say, “poop,” he will do it, even as he says, ”poop!” Weird, huh?

Parrots are master shredders. With a bird like this, you don’t need a paper shredder, just give the paper to the bird. Winston makes short work of a piece of paper, happily chewing it into tiny bits that litter the floor around his perch or cage. Of course, then I have to vacuum. And I've had several pairs of curtains ruined because I placed his perch too near the window.

Hormones? That’s the thing that shocks most people who have no parrot experience. You see, you can’t get a  bird fixed like you can a dog or a cat. And they go through hormonal surges during which some of them turn into demon spawn that you can only handle with wooden perches, otherwise your fingers end up bloody and bruised. I figure we humans sort of deserve that as a punishment for depriving the bird of, shall we say, normal birdy relations.

Oh. Did I mention that a parrot’s way of showing true love is regurgitation? A bird that regurgitates is proving that he or she will make a good parent—that’s how birds feed their young. And how they prove to their true love that they will be the very best mate in the whole wide world.

The worst thing about all this hormonal stuff is that a new parrot owner who hasn’t done any research will be devastated if their adorable, cuddly baby turns into a creature who acts like it needs exorcism. But, that’s just the way it is.

Okay, so far, I’ve made owning a parrot sound like the biggest mistake a person can make. I’ve done that on purpose just so people who shouldn’t own a big bird don’t buy one and waste bunches of money for something they will end up giving away. Parrots are expensive. So are their cages.

Now, I must say that as pets go, Winston is the best I’ve ever had. I researched parrots thoroughly. I knew what I was getting into. I went so far as to find a reputable breeder that I thoroughly interviewed. Then I bought him when he was still an egg.

The same things that make Winston a challenge also make him the perfect pet for me. He’s stand-offish. I don’t have to fawn over him or cuddle him. He’s happy just being in the same room with me and doesn’t have to have his body touching mine like a dog.

He greets me every morning with, “Good Morning!” When I take Winston downstairs, he says, “Mmmmm. Gooooood.” That’s because I’m fixing his breakfast—a mixture of scrambled egg and cheese. He's gotten a cooked breakfast every day of his life. (Yes, he's probably spoiled.)

His vocabulary just keeps growing, and that delights me.  “Want some water?” “Step up!” Goodnight.” “Wanna go upstairs.” “Snack?” “Wanna apple.” “No, no, no, no, no!” “Bad, bad, bad, bad, bad!” “Hey!” “Stop that.” “Stay there.” “Hi, honey.” “Baby bird.” “Good boy!” “Poop!” And so on and so forth. And the weirdest thing is, he does all in the voices of the people he's imitating.

One of the most interesting things is how Winston tries to interact with dogs. He loves them. I think that's because his breeder owned two. When my daughter brings her Maltese to our house, Winston calls him constantly. "Zeus!" "ZEUS COME!" ZEUS!" And when Zeus doesn't respond? "Bad dog! Bad, bad, bad, bad, bad!"

I have lots more I could say about birds and African Greys in particular, but I won't right now. Those of you who regularly read my blog know that I usually cut things off before I've covered everything in depth. That gives me more to write about later. . .

Until then, we all say, "Goodbye."