Parrot So-Called Singing to the Coffee Roaster

This being a cool morning, the windows are opened.  Cool here is anything with a temperature in the forecast below 70 and we’re going to have highs below 80 all week.

There is a cool draft going through the house.  Not yet strong enough to call it a breeze, but that made it perfect for coffee roasting.

I put all that together when I thought “Hey! I’d like a cup of decaf”.  Ok, so it’s my third mug today and I’m running low.  Perfect weather to roast up some beans.  That meant getting the popcorn popper down and filling the hopper with some decaf beans while the last of the old coffee brewed. 

Plug in the popcorn popper and it growled to life.  One small problem… my parrot Oscar immediately decided to “sing” along with the machine.  More like growl, shout, shriek and chatter.

 I have had the old reprobate since 1986.  He’s not exactly a talker, although he does a passable imitation of my laughing, blowing kisses, the Bronx Cheer and other sound effects. 

He also has the habit of getting quite loud when there are other sounds in the house.

I long ago gave up being able to crank the stereo up loud and feel the bass.  I should be thankful I suppose since he’s helping to save my hearing.  So this morning, windows open, breezes trying to start up their morning march from the ocean, when I fired up the machine I didn’t want to share his “singing with the roaster” show with the entire neighborhood.

Yes, parrots can be loud.

Blood curdling, deafeningly, annoying to neighbors … Loud.

Luckily mine only gets loud when it is loud in here.  Since trying to turn the TV up over a shrieking parrot does not work, I just turn it down until I’m out of the parrot zone.

That doesn’t work with a popcorn popper.  So for six minutes while waiting for the timer, I stood next to the parrot cage making my own sound effects, calling him an “Old Buzzard”, blowing kisses, and generally sounding like a right sodding git while managing to keep him down to a dull chatter.

The coffee was perfect as ever, but the face time with the bird was appreciated by both of us.  After all, they do get bored.  Parrots came to be when their social skills brought them close enough to live with us.  Not quite like Wolf becoming Dog, but there are some incredibly strong bonds with a bird indeed.

After all a Dog can get your slippers, but a Parrot may be able to tell you where they are and then tell you to get it yourself.

Isn’t that what you want in a pet?  Something that screams at the bad TV you watch, sings to the popcorn popper, and then orders you to get your own shoes?

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