First you believe, then you see.
Parrots don’t just mimic. They learn and can understand context.
Our Parrot, Lois, taught herself to ring a bell when we give her a pistachio. And she does so as soon as she sees us take one from the container. I believe she is saying thank you. She says, “Bye-bye,” when she hears me zip up my backpack and when she sees me put on a jacket. She also says, “I love you,” when she sees one of us crying, and, “Oops,” if we stumble or drop something. (She used to say, “Oh Shit!”)
Lois knows my name is Glen and that “Glen” is connected to me. She picked up my name from my wife but understands that it symbolizes me. That’s context; she’s not just “Parroting.”
We’re in the new apartment with our Parrot, Lois. She’s adjusted better than my wife and me. She’s taking pistachios from my hand and saying, “I love you,” just like she did in the old place. She stretches her wings and forages on the cage floor for the food she threw out of her bowl earlier this morning.
Parrots are resilient creatures who adapt well to new environments. Since they mostly live in cages, their environment is much like a mobile home: the amenities stay the same, with favorite toys, a roll of toilet paper, and a stable perch. She says my name, and I reply, “I love you, Lois. You’re the sweety peety of the world! You’re phenomenal! You’re incredible! You’re fantastic! You’re beautiful!” The feathers on her neck puff out with the last part, and she shakes her head in joy.
I can’t imagine a better way to begin my day.
As we pack up and anticipate a new home in a new town, we find the flotsam and jetsam of twenty years of incomplete projects and unrealized plans. There are things we haven’t used in years; collected parts, pieces, and one-use tools stashed away in jars and cigar boxes. And although it’s said that if you can manage without something for a year, you don’t need it. I follow my Dad’s maxim, “It’s better to have and not need than to need and not have.”
There is a feeling of triumph after you root around in storage spaces and mine your toolbox, to gleefully present—just the thing you need. It’s a tiny victory and vindication, but a win, even a small one, is a win.
God is good!
With One Intention 