The parrot who hates me
Over the weekend, we babysat a parrot. Despite early success at befriending him, it turns out the bird hates me. It sounds silly, I know, but it really hurt my feelings. After all, I’m pretty good with smart, sensitive animals, right?
Wrong.
On the first day, he happily took sunflower seeds that I handed him. He let me pet him behind the head, and he seemed genuinely excited to see me.
On the second day, I got over confident and tried to get him to climb onto my ungloved hand. He bit me. Later when I tried to pet him, he tried to bite me again.
On the third day, he seemed genuinely crabby. So, I grabbed the glove used to handle him, just in case, and he dove at my head — flapping, squawking, the whole bit.
