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“Good morning, Squeakers,” said Momanita. “Do you hear that?” “I’m a cockatiel, not a rooster! Let me wake up. Or even better, let me go back to sleep.” To other hootmans this sounded like squeals and whistles, but not to Momanita. She MOSTLY understood cockatiel speak. I MOSTLY understood hootman talk. “Who do you thinkContinue reading “Straight From The Woodpecker’s Mouth”