
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”



About Me, the Rescue Cockatiel Blogger
Hilo, wilding world! I’m Squeaks. I’m the ONLY rescue cockatiel blogger on the internest. Momanita rescued me more seasons ago than I have toes. (Toes are good. I like my toes. Most of the time I like my toes. Toes keep me on the perch. I don’t like when nailtoes grow curly. Then I have to go to the nailtoe hootman who cuts them. I hate that almost more than I hate pingpongo balls.) So Momanita made this website for her books. She’s an author. She’s my rescue author. A rescue author is a regular author who needs my help. Momanita likes to write almost as much as she likes me. (I know she likes me because she tells me I’m a “good boy” all the time. And she’s right. I AM a good boy!) I help Momanita with her website. I bloggo for her. I hope you like my bloggos even better than millet. I LOVE millet. Millet gives me the coos. Reading my bloggos might give you the coos, too. Then you’ll know what I mean.
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