I haven't really talked about it, but my wonderful Macaw died about a year ago. I felt like I lost my best buddy because we had been together for over 30 years and it was really hard losing him.

But, life goes on and it was getting quiet around here, so we needed some activity in the house.

Meet Nibbler, a Congo African Grey. I got him around a month and a half ago, he's 18 weeks now. He is hand reared, fully flighted and a blast. He's as tame as a puppy, he already talks a bit, mumbles a lot, and whistles some tunes I taught him. Greys are incredibly intelligent, learns not only to talk, but also knows what words mean so they frequently puts words together and comes up with sentences you didn't even say to them.

Here's a couple pics of the little featherduster.

Just hanging out:

Chillin':

More chillin':

Caught mid squark:

After his twice weekly bath:

I'm FLYING:

Look, I'm a flying parrot:

My cats are experts at making my life hell.

I'm switching to a new even higher quality food for the little furballs. Of course one will have none of that and won't eat it.

I remove their dryfood or the picky eater will gorge himself on that, he doesn't drink as much as he should so letting him eat only dryfood would be an excellent way to get a huge vet bill from kidney stones..

This of course leeds him to lick the now empty foodbowl in the middle of the night with his raspy sandpaper tongue making the most annoying 'chalk on a blackboard' sound...

Rasp rasp rasp rasp rasp rasp rasp rasp rasp rasp rasp rasprasp rasp rasp rasp rasp rasprasp rasp rasp rasp rasp rasp

CUT IT THE FUCK OUT.

Rasp rasp rasp rasp rasp rasp rasp rasp rasp rasp rasp rasprasp rasp rasp rasp rasp rasprasp rasp rasp rasp rasp rasp.

I removed the bowl, now he will probably take revenge by shitting in my shoe or something...

I can see he's plotting it now, sitting high in his cattree giving me the stinkeye. He for some reason loves to stare at me when I sleep, he will sit on the table near the bed and just STARE at me, always watching... I open an eye and there he is... staring at me, plotting my doom.

He also found out a great trick to do at night. One of the closets in my bedroom has a door that's a little bit off when closed. He will wait until I'm asleep and will then take a running jump at it and flick off it, like a cat walldodge. It makes the loudest fucking bang, I almost pissed myself the first time he did it.

Furry terrors! I love em' dearly but damn...