Squeaks, my rescue cockatiel, is at it again! Once again, Squeaky Pie, managed to post on my website. This time he’s protesting a Christmas song (or Christymas song in cockatiel talk). I’ve decided not only to let his post stand, but to give Mr. Squeaks his own page on my author website. Check out his page, Squeaks Says on http://anitaborgoauthor.com
He tags himself as the only rescue cockatiel bloggo on the Internest.
The mads gets me and I’s don’ts likes it!
My morning day starts out good.
Momanita cleans my rolly nest. (She calls it a cage.) I sits on her shoulder. Shinies hang from her ears. (She calls them earrings.) I pecks at them. The shinies twirls like leaves in a windy breeze.
My afternoon day is gooddo better!
Me and Mikeyman plays good or bad hand. His good hand snuggles me up and the coos get me. The bad hand taps my tail and I gives him a squeak. Bad hand don’t hurt me. Bad hand surprisyed me. My cresty pops up. That’s the way Mikeyman plays with me.
My hootmans, Momanita and Mikeyman, loves me SO much.
I pecks and twirls and watches for good or bad hands. The tireds gets me. I fluffs up for resty time in my rolly nest.
During resty time Momanita moves my rolly nest by the talky box. I watches pictures and listens to songs about Christymas. I likes the snowyball man one and the red beaky deer one.
Then the hootmans on the talky box sings the Christymas bird song.
Christymas bird song is no fair! I do NOTS likes the Christymas bird song. The mads gets me.
The hootmans sing about swannos swimming and geeslings laying and three frenchies.
I listens for them to sing about cockatiels squeaking, but the hootmans don’t sings about me.
They sings about birdies calling and a turtle who’s a dove. (Fly with a shell?)
I listens for them to sings about cockatiels cooing, but they don’t.
When they sings about the partyridge in the pear tree. The mads get me. The mads get me like when Momanita slurpies her coffee before she feeds me.
I thinks about that partyridge sitting in a pear tree and me NOT sitting there. And no hootmas singing about me. I wants to be a partyridge. I wants to be in the song.
I don’t coo for three days even when Momanita gives me millet.
Then Mikeyman plants a tree in the house. I sees it from my rolly nest. Momanita stretches twisty vines with starry thingos around it. Lots of shinies hangs from branchoes.
Momanita opens my rolly nest and gives bellyrubs. My feets forget about the mads getting me and climbs on her finger. Bellyrubs cheer me even if I’m not a partyridge and hootmans don’t sing about me. She stands by the housetree and cocks her head like a robin listening for wormies.
The housetree remembered me about the peartree and the partyridge. It remembered me about the Christymas bird song with NO cockatiel. I feels the mads getting me again.
Then Momanita leans into the housetree. The shinies twinkles. I reaches to pecks them.
Then I sees it- a Squeaky Pie shiny!
Then I hears it – Momanita singing.
“Three French hens, two turtle doves, and a Squeaky Pie in a housetree.”
I don’t wants to be a partyridge anymore. I’s stays a Squeaky Pie. The partyridge can keeps his treepear.
I haves Momanita and Mikeyman.