Friday night was a long one. Aunty Emily had a heart attack, and has been taken to Liverpool Hospital. She “came over all weak and floppy”, she has had a blockage removed already but may need more surgery. We went over to Hurlstone Park to collect Cocky, who spent Friday night in our shower. She wasn’t impressed with being put in a cat carrier for the trip, and bit Mark thoroughly through his welders gloves. I am afraid she may have hurt a wing, but since I don’t know what is normal for this bird, I am loathe to put her through the stress of another car ride (the only avian vet that is open on a Sunday is miles away) while she is just settling in.
We have made her a much bigger house (though still tiny for such a large parrot), which she will hopefully learn to like more than the tiny cage she has been in for the last god knows how many years.
Saturday morning we made a quick trip out to Dural for the 80th birthday of an old family friend. Mary and her family lived next door to us when we were growing up, and Mary was like a third grandmother to Adam and I. I haven’t seen her in years, so it was lovely to be able to see her on such a momentous occasion, and to introduce her to Mark – and to tell her our news. It was also great to catch up with Donna, her daughter, who I have always adored.
We then went to Bunnings to buy Cockatoo house fixings. Note to self: Just because one’s husband has an honours degree in pure maths does not mean he is capable of simple calculation. I believe we’ll be popping in to Bunnings again today.
Then off to Rubi + Lana’s for the late shift. THe shop closes at 2pm, I got there about 2.30pm, so no shopping for me (which could be a good thing). Too ill to do much knitting, but the (insert superlative here) Kate gave me three balls of gorgeous fluffy orange stuff with an alpaca base, and a bath bomb which will get used very soon. Thanks Kate!
Still feeling vile, I dragged myself home, and into bed. Got up a couple of times to supervise cockatoo house building, but head-spins and dizziness drove me back to my bed.
It’s now sunday morning, and I promise some pictures of the new arrival as soon as Mark gets up. I can’t contemplate getting out of bed without a full breakfast, and a significant lie in.
PS. Cocky needs a name. I can’t go to the vet with a magnificent bird with a name like “Cocky”. The ignominy.
PPS. I hate myself a little for saying this, but 45 days in prison for Paris Hilton brings me joy. Hopefully that means 45 days of no “Paris News”. I can hardly wait.
Disco Knitter 
I’m sorry to hear about your Aunt, I’ll keep her in my thoughts.
Does Cocky know about vegies? An ear of corn or some broccoli is a good toy. They also like peaches, and make a fine peach mulch. Parrots are very messy eaters, and will throw their food. I’m guessing he doesn’t know how to play, and might not know what to do with veggies. Give the veggies anyway. Chook’s favourite toy is strips of paper.
I’m very impressed that Cocky is tame enough to be handled. (Basic signs of parrot health are their poops, and location in cage. Parrots like to be high up, sitting on bottom of cage all fluffy is a bad sign. Their poops vary with species.)
Recently, in the US, some newspapers did a “No Paris Hilton” week. Everyone enjoyed that. I don’t like her, as she is a vapid thing with an astonishing sense of self worth. Repeating breaking parol? Clever, go to prison.
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I am guessing you won’t rename Cocky Paris?
I am sending positive thoughts to your Aunt, and hoping you feel better soon. My friend . . . just kidding. 😛
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She has a big sunflower seed ball (which I know is junk, but we were desperate for her to eat, and play), we gave her some corn last night – shredded, and some chickory this morning, which she loved until I tried to take a photo of her eating it.
I have found an avian vet in Carlingford, which is about a 10 minute drive, I’ll take her on Tuesday to give her a chance to settle in. I do hope she’s OK!
She has allowed me to pat her front and back, and scratch her neck. She hisses like she is going to bite me, but she is really very calm. Amazing for a bird with such a depressing background. She is sitting high in the cage, but hasn’t done much climbing yet. We hope to see her get a little more adventurous and raucous 🙂
Too bloody right. If she ever does anything worthy of note, I’ll be the first one to cheer. But until then, she can shut the fuck up.
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Hehehehe. You’re lucky you are so far away Amanda!
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Sending healing and relaxing vibes to both you and Aunt Emily, Lara. I cheered too when Paris was sent to prison – never has there been a more feeble excuse for humanity than bloody Paris Hilton and her ilk.
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She likes veggies? Excellent!
Chook loves veggies on a stick. I put some broccoli, some capsicum hearts and carrots on a kebab stick, and he shreds it all happily.
She’s pretty tame, if she allows touching.
I was anti-Paris, since the first time I saw her on TV. “I model, and I act and design handbags. I do everything.” Which had me screaming at the TV “Do you cure cancer? No!”
Does Cocky want to become “Coco”? The grand old dame of the henhouse?
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Thanks Donna and Emma 🙂
I’ll grab some more brocolli (I’ve been eating it like it’s going out of style) and a few other things to try her on.
I’m also wondering how we can tell the difference between compulsive rocking and happy dancing. I “think” she is dancing, but it seems to good to be true.
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