Princess Types...sorta fluff.

First, I feel I ought to make a disclaimer of sorts.

Okay, my last entry may have had a slight polarizing effect on the folks reading. I've never shied away from politics or opinions, or any of those other topics that aren't dinner table appropriate. "What the hell..." is a prime example of that. I've got more opinions where that came from. Blame my parents who always encouraged me to have opinions -- as long as I could back them up and make a reasonable argument, it was game on.

But, I'm not here to rouse the rabbles this time. I'm here to write about something else entirely. I've been wanting to discuss the joys of having a cockatiel for a while, but just couldn't think of a good way to approach it. Then I thought, "what the hell?" This is a journal. Just write.

We adopted Ozzie from a friend of ours whose parents were disbanding their menagerie in favor of a free-wheeling life of RV-ing (that hasn't come to fruition anyway). I suppose you could say we rescued her, because our friend's father was threatening to flush her down the toilet if she didn't find a home for Ozzie. She used to get let out of her cage about once a week, when they vacuumed. As a result, she just LOVES the vacuum.

Now she gets let out of her cage every day. Almost all day. She's become utterly spoiled. She sits on people's shoulders and knees, and the top of the lap top screen. She gets to take showers with us. She gets dried fruit bits and bread crusts or toast as treats. She's recently discovered that she likes carrots. And all she has to do to get her head rubbed is look at us.

We keep her wings trimmed so that she can go on adventures with us -- namely out back of the apartment to sit in the sun on warm days. She's curious about everything -- especially if we're eating it. Her favorite is tomato soup -- we found that out when she marched across the table and stuffed her beak right into my fiance's bowl one night.

I've had all kinds of pets. Dogs, cats, tarantulas, hermit crabs, a horned toad that a friend of mine caught and got bored with when I was living in Oklahoma...and I remember each of them happily. But Ozzie is a little different -- she's the princess in this home. She calls the shots, she gets her way, and we generally comply with her wishes unless they will result in direct harm. And even when we have to say no, there's no point in saying "no." It's more a matter of distracting her, or bribing her, or something else to pull her attention away from the bag of chips she's determined to eat. I had no idea I would get so attached to a bird. Hell, I had no idea that birds could "smile." Ozzie can, indeed, smile, and when she smiles, everyone is happy.

Now. I'm sure that I'll have some scathing opinions percolating to the surface very soon. If that's your thing, keep reading. On the other hand, I might also write an entry about talking to trees.