Heckled By ParrotsBlue Sky WritingFalconryRebecca K. O'Connor

Examining, Surviving and Loving life with Parrots

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Vulcan Grey


I dreamt that Ty and I were talking about the mysteries of life. Or at least I was talking about them. Ty was mostly replying to my ponderings with some statement equating to “Fascinating.”

I have always thought that birds held the secret to life. Now finally, after all of these years I had the opportunity to ask and I wasn’t getting anywhere.

Ty was all frustrating logic and I had so many questions…

~Do parrots ever sit in the middle of a flock and feel lonely?
~Do you ever wonder where the sky ends?
~Do parrots ever ponder if there is a point to all of this?
~Do you worry what it means that you’re getting old?
~When a front moves through, does it pull at the air in your bones the way the moon worries the water in my blood –and make you crazy?
~Do you feel like there is too much information to ever fit neatly inside you head?
~Are you certain that the number of almonds in your morning bowl forecasts the rest of your day?
~Do you wish you were bigger, that your feathers were a different color?

I didn’t get any answers in my dreams. What could Ty say? Parrots must mainly consider the things that necessitate survival. Will that eat me? Would that get me food? Should I replicate what I just did to get the same results? Did I make a mistake that must never be repeated? I bet they don’t consider their blood or the skyline.

When a good portion of the world wants to eat you or your offspring, how is there room to think of much else? Pondering existence is the luxury and the curse of those who have conquered the wilderness. Perhaps we are no smarter than other animals, but in our conquering we have found replacements for the missing stress. We engineer stress through problems that cannot be solved. We ask questions and refuse to concede to the answers. The answer to all of the questions I asked Ty was singular. “No.”

~My feathers are just fine.
~Who cares how many almonds were in my bowl once they’re eaten?
~Every wingbeat is more important than the skyline will ever be.

In my dream Ty may as well have said, “Your question is illogical, Jim.” And I could have replied, “Spock. You just. Don’t. Under. Stand.”

Kirk needed Spock. We all need Spock. Ty is a good Spock substitute. All of our parrots are. Follow the lead of your second in command.

There’s food in your bowl. There is no rain on your head. Nothing is coming to eat you. Smile. And stop asking so many pointless questions.

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  1. Beloved Parrot says:

    Another excellent post. Thank you!

  2. […] This post was mentioned on Twitter by Rebecca K. O'Connor, MetalRabbit13. MetalRabbit13 said: RT @rebeccakoconnor: Because a little bit of parrot logic goes a loooong way… http://tinyurl.com/2cq2fgx […]

  3. You made me tear up and cry. :’) Happy tears though…It really does make you think. I’m sorry that I can’t articulate anything meaningful but I just want to say thank you so much for posting this. I was having a very terrible day and this one post made me snap out of it. It made me realize that as long as I keep pondering over things and making myself sick I will never truly be happy. So thank you so very much. Bless you and bless Ty… Now if you’ll excuse me I have to go hug my sun conure. 😉

  4. Rebecca says:

    And now you just made me tear up too. 🙂 XO

  5. Janine says:

    EXACTLY! Thank you!