Sport is a baby parrot.
She is Cockatiel and she has made my day. She plays (gnawing mostly) and sings (like a monkey mostly) and eats (millet mostly). Her favorite toys are those elastic hair bands, cords of any sort, and basically anything hard and shiny. Her favorite game is the Prevent Mars from tying her shoes game. She sits on my shoulder.

I don't leave the house much any more. * * *

I have made a deal with my cat. He doesn't eat the bird, I don't kill him. Its simple. Prior to this arrangement I had tried several lines of reasoning with him. The closest I came was when I almost convinced him that it went against common decency to eat an animal smarter then yourself. "I can't eat dolphins" I said, "You can't eat the parrot." He was about to concede this point, but then he caught a glimpse of the fine spread of Sport's tail feathers as she preened, the subtle twist of her neck, the curve of her back.... all was lost. SO yummy. So we have settled with this rather puissant of bargains. The bird lives, the cat lives. Like I said, simple.

* * *

12/28/00
So my parrot and I are pair-bonding. I thought I would be able to avoid this. I was so enjoying being single, but I am not that strong. I need love and she is willing to give it. How could I say no? Hey, and what's more, I got love to give. And who could be more deserving then that tiny, sweet, jovial, feathered girlfriend of mine??
I am really myself with her, I mean really. Its cool. She appreciates me for who I am. You know, for my endless supply of cashews and hair ties, not for some superficial or shallow reason. Man, she knows me.
We make a good couple; I got the brains, she's got the looks. She likes neck rubs, I like to give 'em. I like to read books, she likes to eat them. We both dig naps and shit, do we both love corn chips or what?!? A match made in heaven. Or at least one made at the St. John's Episcopal "peppermint mouse" silent auction where I got her for the minimum bid.
Its all still a little tentative though. I think we have a lot of trust issues to work out. She's still afraid I will leave her and not come back or you know like, step on her or something. I still cant let her anywhere near my ear lobes with out feeling like I am really exposed. Often I feel I have have to withdraw and get some space...
I'll know that we're all good, that its true love when she starts regurgitating food for me. Until then I guess we are just gonna try to take it slow.

* * *

4/25/01
The they might be giants' song "letterbox" came up on the office jukebox this morning and I laughed at the line about the little bird. Something about never telling him anything he needs to know, but then, "she's my best friend. she's a sparrow." I was reminded then of my dear Sport, who indeed is, among the animal kingdom, my best friend. Far more loyal and true then that treacherous, two timing, stoner cat of mine! (Amongst humans, of course being separate of the rest of the animal kingdom, the Chen still holds reigning title) Though, truth be told, I don't often need to be reminded on my little feathered friend; she is always on my mind. So I guess I will just take this time to remind you of how just incredibly cool and cute (see 2/26/01 for proof) she is: my bird rules.

Incidentally, I have been using the pronoun 'she' through this entry, but its very likely that Sport is not female. All the signs point to male. In conversation I flip flop between 'he' and 'she' and have comically been referring to the animal as 'hesheitsport'

some HeSheItSport updates:

Sport is talking more and more. She has been saying her name for sometime and more recently "hey sport" This morning I believe I heard her first attempts at "hello bird"

Sport has her big boy feathers! He is molting for the first time since I got her and all the striped feathers that suggested "female" are falling out and being replaced with the monotone male gray. Also, his crest is turning yellow. hee! Its actually weird cause she looks nothing like that bird I purchased back in October. If it weren't for the charming, but fussy personality and rather distinct smell (honest, he smells great. kinda like a good goat cheese) I wouldn't be able to tell if somebody had swapped my bird for another.

ok. all this talk. I sound pretty lame right about now, don't I? Rest assured I have not joined any cockatiels mailinglists or gone to any bird society meetings. I don't even subscribe to BirkTalk. I still have my life, sort of...

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