Signs of Spring #2

The Parrot dancing at the title to this post is my son Tudor. Dani and I inherited him from my mother (still living). He is an Amazon Double Yellow, of unknown age and is currently driving Dani and I berserk! When he is being good, he is an amazingly intelligent, talkative and highly entertaining kid. But with the sudden change of seasons, Tudor has become a spastic, screaming monster that is winning us no favor with our neighbors. I am trying to enjoy the warm, fresh gentle breezes via open doors and windows, but to unfamiliar passers by it sounds all the world of an elderly woman being brutally tortured, while another female voice is screaming, "Shut up or I'll kill you!" and this will go on all day. I am patiently awaiting the arrival of the police or a SWAT team or perhaps social services to investigate us wicked people who are flaying their poor old grandmother. Perhaps all he needs is some hot South American parrot sex. I'm looking into the cost of a live chicken.