The Boys

My boys. Two spoiled rotton cockatiels. When my rabbit Chelsea passed away, I wanted to get another rabbit. A cute, cuddly, soft, furry little bunny rabbit. Ike wanted these birds. Ike got the birds. After a year, Ike lost interest in the birds. Now, any critter that comes into my house (any except things like ticks or spiders) is going to get their claws into my heart. These guys came squawking into my house about 12 or 13 years ago, so they've pretty much got a firm grip. They're not cuddly, you don't want to get your fingers too close to those nasty sharp beaks, and when they're excited they can scream a shrill squawk that drills through your eardrums into your brain. But I love them. I don't like keeping birds as pets, I think if you're going to keep a creature whose very life and soul is flying around, you should have a large room where you can let them do so. I don't have the space. So I have to keep their wings trimmed. They have a very large cage, but that's not the same as having space to let them soar as their very nature intends them to do. They're used to being kept in the livingroom, where they can watch the goings-on of the household, but since the Monster Puppy Kerrie (more on her later) came into our lives, I have to keep them in this back room for their very safety until we can train the Beastie not to chase them. I hope she settles down soon, I want them back out where we can watch each other through most of the day.