This week’s innerview-ee is another first for me. When I learned I was gonna meet a pair uh Keet, I thought there’d be two KEETS. So I Googled and found out I’d be meetin’ one BIRD, inna spee-cees called PARRA-keet, named that cuz it’s a kinda PARR-ot: Pickelena Ehrhart. When me an my assistant arrived, we were greeted by a nice man an lady who led us back to a sunny room just off a screen porch.
There was this BIG cage with all sortsa hanging colored ropes an beads and swingy things an, like, a zillion balls with holes in ’em, big Pickleball balls, an liddle whiffle golf balls, all different colors, anna wader bowl, anna nice view of the pool an the NAYberhood. Miss Pickelena was sittin’ on top of (not IN) it. She was very pretty, an dainty an small, with beautyfull blue feathers, also some white, anna liddle curvy beek with a small brown band at the top of it.
I had glanced through my newly purchased BASIC CHIRP for Dummies handbook an had, hopefully, retained enough Chirp to get by. In the softest, least scary voice I could manage, I said what I hoped was, “Very honored I am meeting you Miss Pickelena. Your feathers are So Beautyfull.”
She hopped closer to me on her cage top, tilted her head, an replied, in amazingly clear Dog, “Why thank you, Mr. Bonzo.” Noticing my apparent surprise at her command of Dog, she continued, “Being of the Parrot Group, I am Very Good at languages of all sorts. Dog is (no offense) Very Basic. I might have a slight Chirp accent so I’ll speak slowly.”
I opened my notebook. “Thank you, Miss Picklena. I know you have a great story an I am eager to hear it.”
She spoke slowly an pruh-cisely as promised, thank Lassie.
“First, these are my humans, Gerry and Gloria. Were it not for them, my feathers would be decorating someone’s hat by now, I imagine. It all began when Gerry an Gloria were at the Pickleball Court a while back. Gerry was about to take a swing when he noticed something. He said, ‘Hey, what’s that in the net?’ The play stopped an Gerry took a closer look. Well, it was me, all tangled up. I was terrified an confused. To this day, I don’t know how I came to be there. I just remember I was too weak to fly, or hardly even to move.
“Anyway, Gerry recognized me as a parakeet. He took off his shirt, right then an there, gently threw it over me an placed me inna nearby basket, carried me to his house, unwrapped me, an put me on the lanai. Gerry an Gloria put out The Word, but no one claimed me. I guess I’d been lost for quite a while, because I was very weak an wobbly. But Gerry and Gloria gave me Special Bird Food an I completely recovered. I didn’t realize it then, but I had found my Most EGG-sellent Forever Nest. AN my Forever NAME: They named me Pickle for where I was rescued, but when they learned I was a girl (the boys have blue beak bands), they changed it to Pickelena.”
“PERFECT! You are sure One Lucky Bird,” I said. “What’s your life like now?”
“At first, when I got my strength back, I flew all over the house just to scope things out. Gerry an Gloria put colored stickers on the glass sliders so I don’t crash. Plus, my Bird RADAR is operational. Even though I’m not restricted, I only fly on occasion, usually only when there is THUNDER. For that, I have an emergency flight plan filed with the FAA: I fly straight to the guest bathroom and sit on the floor. Otherwise I’m mostly in or on my wonderful cage. When there’s going to be one of those Scary Windy Twirly things, Gerry puts up the storm shutters, an always puts a clear one on my corner window so I can see out.”
“What sorta foodstuffs do you eat?” I queried.
“Oh, the usual, mostly nutritious PELLETS: corn, wheat, millet, alfalfa. An I LOVE veggies: especially spinach, celery, broccoli, fresh, of course. An, when Gloria’s teaching me things, when I do them correctly, I get to nibble on a stalk of millet seeds. But Not Too Much because it makes us birds, um, Zone Out, I think humans call it.
“Once, when I was molting, I got a feather stuck in my beek. Mom saved me. So now I’m extra careful when I’m molting. Like now. That’s when I jump into my water dish an take a nice bird bath. I fluff up my feathers, an splash around. Very refreshing.”
“I see you have, umm, quite a few balls.”
“I LOVE BALLS. Gloria is teaching me to tap a golf whiffleball when she says ‘Tap the ball, Pickelena!’ Pickleballs are my Security Blanket. I usually sleep with one or two.”
“Any pet frens?”
“Actually, where fellow pets are concerned, I’m mostly a loner,” she replied. “Except for my next door naybor, Scarlett, she’s a dog. A Labrador. She stays with us when her mom and dad are away. We don’t have that much in common but we chill together.
“I also like bein’ around humans. Like, when Gregg and Gloria have frens over. I like to be involved in their conversation. I mostly only make polite liddle chirps. And, Mr. Bonzo, I must tell you, I am a huge music fan. My favorite singer is Karen Carpenter. When her songs are playing, I sing along. That’s when I can get LOUD. It’s fun to try to sound like her.”
Heading home, I was picksurin’ delicate liddle Pickelena, boppin’ her pickleballs all over the place; preening her beautiful blue feathers, splashin’ about in her wader dish, flyin’ into the bathroom, or enjoyin’ millet seeds (but not too many).
