Cockatiels Are Hardly Ever Wrong!

“Good morning, Squeaky Pie!” Momanita, my hootman, greeted me. “You mean, good dawn or happy sunrise or pleasant daybreak,” I chirped and scooted away from Momanita who peeked under my rollynest cover. “And I don’t think dawn or sunrise or daybreak is good or happy or pleasant! They’re too early!” “Did you hear the birdsong,Continue reading “Cockatiels Are Hardly Ever Wrong!”

Cockatiels Hardly Ever Make New Year’s Resolutions!

“It’s 2022, Squeaks!” Momanita, my hootman announced at 5 am.  I knew it was 5 am because I had an inner sense of time. (Also, there’s a clock on the cabinet next to my rolly nest.)  “I’m NOT a rooster. I’m a cockatiel. It’s time for sleeping. Then MUCH later it’s time for my coverContinue reading “Cockatiels Hardly Ever Make New Year’s Resolutions!”

Shoo Away The Gloomies

“How are you feeling, Squeaks?” Momanita asks me. A stone got me. A heavy stone that won’t move, I squeal. A stone didn’t REALLY get me. It just FEELS like a stone got me. There’s not much difference. I mostly understand hootman talk. Momanita mostly knows cockatiel speak. She’s the only hootman who does. “YouContinue reading “Shoo Away The Gloomies”

Cheering up Momanita with the Turtle Shell Foot

My hootman, Momanita, perched on her sofanest for lots of millet days. (Momanita gives me millet once a week. A week is fewer toes than I have.)  She didn’t rest like I rest on my perch. I rest with both my feet holding onto the perch. Sometimes I lift one up and snuggle it intoContinue reading “Cheering up Momanita with the Turtle Shell Foot”

Hootman Terror Birds

The scares got me! The scares got Momanita! The scares got everybody! Scares are baddo. Scares are more baddo when they are surprise scares. The evening day was gooddo before it turned baddo. Momanita and me watched the talky box together. She moved my rolly nest close. The pictures on the talky box were gooddo.Continue reading “Hootman Terror Birds”

No Fair Song!

The mads gets me today and I’s don’ts likes it! My morning day starts out good.  Momanita cleans my rolly nest. (She calls it a cage.) I sits on her shoulder. Shinies hang from her ears. (She calls them earrings.) I pecks at them. The shinies twirls like leaves in a windy breeze.  My afternoonContinue reading “No Fair Song!”