Machismo

I was just upstairs to change water and give the birds their morning treat. As I walked by his cage, Classy slipped off his perch and was hanging onto it by his beak. It’s not a long fall – his feet were less than one inch from the bottom, but the distress in his eyes indicated he didn’t want to fall even that far. I reached in and rescued him, then hugged and kissed him and returned him to his cage.

He immediately rushed to his seed bowl and began hurling seed at me, then shot me a nasty look and assumed a macho stance while glaring at me. I’m sure he was showing me how tough he is and that he certainly didn’t need to be rescued.

Classy is such a contradiction. He’s either Mr. Macho or Mr. Lover – there’s no in-between. I get such a kick out of him.

Mark, on the other hand, isn’t really that amused. He still has the remnants of the bruise as a result of an incident last week. Mark has to be on his toes when Classy is on top of his cage or he gets nailed. Apparently he let his guard down, because Class ended up hanging from the inside of his upper arm – ye-ouch!

Cathy