Nature had done its thing. It was time to follow instinct. It was time for me to come out of my shell. I could see nothing but darkness after I came out of my shell, but I did something I had never done before: I began squawking for my mother. When my eyes were opened, I noticed that the one feeding me was nothing like me, but ‘it’ was feeding me, so I was satisfied. Soon after, this person began to feed me this strange substance known as seed. It didn’t sit well with me at first. But I gradually began to eat it, and it was rather tasty! As I got older, this very polite ‘it’ began to put this item that looked like a perch up to my chest and say, “step up” (whatever that is). I resisted at first, biting at it and trying to get it away from me, but it was completely fruitless. So, after a time, I decided to try climbing on this moving perch just once so it would leave me alone. But guess what happened? It provided me with some really tasty treats! So I realized that was all right, and I informed all of my brothers and sisters. Soon after, more of these weird things appeared in the area where I resided, and guess what they were doing? They were executing the “step up” routine once again! The first ‘thing’ I saw was OK, so I assumed the others would be as well. People soon kidnapped several of my brothers and sisters. Some are represented by giant ‘its,’ while others are represented by little ‘its.’ I missed them a little, but not much. When just one of my brothers and two of my sisters remained, a really lovely ‘it’ arrived. So I heard my mother, as the ‘its’ refer to her, explain that this girl want a good, peaceful female cockatiel (whatever that is.) So I assumed I was out of the running. This wonderful girl arrived and held a bunch of us, including myself. I overheard them saying that they will come and get her after she was weaned. I had no clue who that wonderful girl had chosen, but my curiosity was killing me. I was also put off since I was a dude and they preferred girls! Isn’t it terrible? They weren’t interested in a lovely little cockatiel like me! So two weeks passed as I stewed in my grief. A few excellent things occurred. I found out what weaned didn’t mean. It implies that’mom’ no longer feeds us the lovely mushy things. We just had seeds at this point. So, now that we’d all been weaned, that wonderful girl showed up, and guess who she chose? Me! Those idiots had no idea who I was or who my sister was! They were in for a surprise. I was now on my way to a new house in a vehicle that went really quickly. It was a lot of fun staring out what they called a ‘window.’ But the ‘female’ mistook me for terrified, even though I wasn’t. The ‘girl’ then placed me in a cage near a window. I’d never been near a window before, except in the thing that moved very, really quickly, so I almost freaked out and began soaring about my cage. But after a while, I began shouting because I was bored and lonely. The gal gave me some more toys, but they weren’t much help. You have no idea how much difficulty I got myself into. They first urged that kind girl to go cover Midnight up (I think that is what she called me.) They finally decided to relocate me to another area of the home. They did this because the girl convinced her “parents” that I needed to be in a more central place so that I could see more people. Was she correct about what? I soon calmed down, but I still yelled in the mornings and evenings, and Dad threatened to put me back in that lonely chamber where no one came in. That, thankfully, never occurred. The following several months were spent in bliss with my newfound pal. Then the problems began. It was molting season. I began to lose all of my feathers and new ones began to grow in. One day, I decided to take a flight, despite the fact that a terrible and cruel person had chopped off my wing feathers, preventing me from flying (though I have since recognized that this was a good thing since I wouldn’t get lost in the big, dangerous world.) But I didn’t feel well when I arrived. Something has gone wrong. It just so happened that I had fallen on my tail and ripped some flesh apart. I felt completely relaxed, knowing that time would cure it. But my owner was not convinced. She panicked out and ran here and there, wailing like an eagle had just taken her kid. Soon after, they hurried me into this room, where a lady named Stephanie* swabbed up my wound with a piece of cotton and applied this thing she called antiseptic that hurt like hell! I despised that lady. She then narrated a tale of a cockatiel who had perished because of the same reason. That was a fantastic method to help me feel better! This was the point at which ‘the nasty lady’ informed my owner that I was a boy. That took her by surprise, but she gradually accustomed to it. My owner returned home with specific instructions on how to care for me and only hold me on the ground until I felt better. In my world, it was mating season, so I spent the next month or so howling at and wooing my master. That father and mother eventually became weary of my screams. They instructed that lovely lady to keep me quiet. But she couldn’t since she knew I missed my other bird pals. So, what did she do? She spoke with her parents about getting a parakeet bird. I was so overjoyed that I could have soared around the room. But I couldn’t because that horrible woman had cut my wings. That same day, she brought home a lovely little female parakeet. The issue was that she was reared by her parents and despised my owner. I wish I could have told her how wonderful our landlord was. Since then, my owner has placed our cages next to one other, and we are now great friends who spend our peaceful days together with our owner. It was molting season once again. My owner hadn’t taken me to that terrible woman in a while, so my wing feathers had grown in and I had begun to fly (yippee!!). I believed that was the finest thing that could have happened to me, but my owner didn’t. She kept insisting she had to make an appointment with that horrible lady, which I was not looking forward to. She found a date that is approximately three weeks away. Someone had left the front door open on one of my rounds around the house, so I went to check what was out there. My owner was irritated as well. Fortunately for my owner, but unfortunately for me, I had gone right instead of left and smashed into the screen. That startled me long enough for my owner to come and get me and bring me back inside the home. The following day, she had my wings removed. My owner has a recommendation for all bird owners: always trim your bird’s wing feathers. (I disagree, but she was typing it, so I was being gracious and allowing her to add one little piece of information.) You’ve now caught up to where I am. I like sitting on my owner’s shoulder as she works on her homework. I’m a sucker for pumpkin seeds. I love it when my owner strokes my head, but I never allow touching. When I’m in the mood, I kiss her, and she kisses me right back. I’m trying to say hello, but it always sounds like a two-tone frog croak. Sweetpea and my owner are two of my favorite people to date. I am currently a seed addict, but my owner is attempting to convert me to pellets. I adore my owner, and I know she adores me as well.
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