I've never in my life birdsat. That is to say...take care of a bird. If fact, I've never really done that much babysitting until the last couple of years in my life. (Had a bad experience with a 7 year old trying to stab me with with a fork once....but that's another story.) Meet Peetree. He's staying with me for a week or so. He's pretty cute. Not much work and makes pretty noises in the morning when I open the windows to let the sunshine in.
You see....I had a bad experience with a bird once. In an antique store when I was in college. There was a ginormous parrot sitting at the check-out counter with absolutely no signs warning me not to touch him....and well, I'm the person that can't resist. I had to touch his beautiful rainbow colored feathers. He in turn whirled around and BIT me. HARD. REALLY HARD. His big, hard, dirty mouth cut right through my fingernail and halfway through my finger. If I wouldn't have been in a public place I would have been writhing around on the ground in pain, pleading for mercy. But instead...I quietly left, bleeding, ashamed that a big ol' bird had gotten the best of me and cursing him at the same time. I NEVER returned. I haven't touched a bird since.
Peetree, though, is sweet. He won't let you touch him. I'm fine with that. I just wanted to take his portrait. And we're both pretty content to just talk to one another.