Pickles The Parrot Returns: My Continued Adventures with a Bird Brain by Georgi Abbott Page A

discovered it and said, “What’s THIS?”
and backed up to his perch to play with this delightful little
item. He chewed on it, rubbed it on his face and waved it in the
air with glee but at some point he chewed on the little button and
it flashed in his face! I hadn’t expected it to scare him, but it
did. It flew from his talon as he flew from his cage and he stood
on the top bars, head cocked, peering at the culprit lying on the
paper below. He wouldn’t go back in his cage until I removed it but
I still sneak it into his bucket now and then just to watch him
throw it out in disgust. It’s never scared him since the first time
but they are still mortal enemies.
    He seldom empties the whole bucket of all the
toys because he likes to play with each and every one of them, and
there are dozens of things in there – anything from pieces of
leather, to beads and buttons and regular talon toys. But when he
does empty it, he likes to sit on the rim and use it as an echo
chamber.
    One evening, it was as if he had decided that
was the only thing he wanted to do. He tossed the toys, helter
skelter, at record speed until the bucket was completely cleared
out. He sat on the edge and all I could see was his twinker up in
the air as he banged the sides with his beak and made any sound he
could think of that might make a good echo. This went on for quite
some time until he let go a loud scream – that African Grey
ear-piercing shriek. Immediately, he went completely still and
quiet – head still in the bucket, twinker still in the air. After I
moment I asked him if he was okay. “Huh?” he asked from inside.
“Did you break an ear drum Pickles?” I asked. “Huh?” came again,
from the bucket. Then I guess ‘huh’ started to make a good echo and
he just carried on saying it, “Huh? Huh. Huh? Huh. Huh? Huh.” -
either that, or he really was trying to hear himself through the
ringing in his ears.
    I’m pretty good at strategically placing his
toys and perches so that neither gets pooped on much however, when
he plays with his bucket of toys, some of them get dropped below
and pooped on over night and in the morning, the poopy ones get
thrown in a nearby basket to clean once it’s full. At one point, I
got a little behind in washing them and the basket got full so I
was putting them in a plastic bag next to the basket. Pickles
decided he really wanted to inspect the bag so he climbed down from
his cage and headed over while Neil was watching TV. Neil didn’t
notice until Pickles started rustling around and told him to get back up! Pickles dropped it,
reluctantly, and headed back up his cage but the moment he noticed
Daddy was preoccupied; he headed back to the bag. Once again, the
rustling alerted Neil who told him again to get
back up! “Daddy bad” said Pickles as he fluffed up to pout
on top of his cage, but he stayed put after that.
    After awhile, Neil went to the kitchen to
make coffee and when he returned to the livingroom, he found that
Pickles had dragged the bag to the middle of the floor and had the
toys scattered all over the carpet. “Pickles! No!” Neil told him
“Get back on your cage”. Pickles didn’t head for his cage this
time, instead, he ran after Neil’s hand as Neil was picking up the
toys and yelled “No. No. No.” at each toy that went back in the bag
and tried to grab them before Neil could. Neil’s yelling ‘No’ while
Pickles is yelling ‘No’ and they’re both fighting over the
toys.
    Pickles finally resorted to grabbing the bag
and hanging on to the bottom of it while yelling at Daddy as
Daddy’s filling it up. Neil finishes inserting all the toys but
Pickles ain’t letting go of that bag and he ain’t gonna step up on
Neil’s hand. He just clung to the bag, refusing to relinquish, so
Neil plunked the bag down on the floor with Pickles beneath, upside
down. Still, Pickles clung to it.
    The staring contest began. Each glaring at
the other; waiting for the other to concede.