...is an amazing experience. It's not like bonding with a dog (or any other animal I've known) - but the ties can run just as deep. It requires overcoming millions of years of evolutionary instinct as well as appealing to incredible intelligence. The bird should fear you; it weighs mere ounces and has hollow bones, and humans are heavy and cumbersome. Birds have not been bred (or coevolved) to depend on humans in any way. So when a bird voluntarily flies over and lights on your shoulder, or nuzzles up to you, or falls asleep on your finger, you feel something special. At least I do.

I'm visiting my parents at the moment, and my sister's budgie is here. Michelle is up at school and temporarily lives in an apartment that doesn't allow birds. Monet is canary yellow and, for the time being, resides happily on my parents' porch (it's screened in and bird proofed!). Her cage door is left open, and she zooms around at will, sings the songs of the backyard birds (and the squeaking of the porch door), and altogether leads a happy little existence. Far better than most pet birds.

Anyway, I was outside this morning playing with the little yellow puffball. We have fun together. When she gets excited she makes kissing noises and mimics the sounds of the bells in her cage. We were playing little bird games, which involved a lot of Monet chirping, MWAH! Dingalingalingalingaling! Dingdingdingding! Kiss kiss kiss kiss kiss! She would run up and down my arms, tap my fingernails with her beak, and play with my hair. So cute.

Honey the Westie had managed to squeeze herself out on the porch with me. She hates birds, mostly because she doesn't understand why anyone would waste time with something she plans on eating anyway. No worries, just can't leave them together unattended.

Then the phone rang. I put Monet on top of her cage and tried to run inside, but Honey can not be left alone with a budgie. She hasn't been listening very well, so I jumped right into Mean Jenn Mode and sternly said, "COME!" Silly me - my sister has trained her bird to come when called. She only does it for people she really likes, which usually doesn't include me. Well, today it does! Of course, Honey still didn't listen, so I ended up leaving the dog on the porch and running inside with a bird chirping happily on my shoulder.

It was my father. The connection was bad, so he called about four times in rapid succession to sputteringly tell me that a workman was coming over to work on the A/C unit. Halfway through telling me this, the doorbell rang. The workman was here. I spazzed. Monet did a few swoops through the air and landed on my head. I ran to the door with Monet squawking happily and my father yelling into one ear. Both dogs were also barking madly, because why not?!

I looked through the glass in the door, the bird still gripping my hair with all her might. The poor man was standing there looking horribly confused and a little scared. I indicted I would be just a quick second, hung up on my father, and ran to the porch to shake Monet off my head. She happily obliged, only to zoom back to my head every time I got six inches from the door. We repeated this several times. So, in full view of the flabbergasted man I had just intentionally left locked outside, I waved my arms madly while shrieking, "MONET! NO!" and sprinted inside. Honey happily followed, still barking. The front door had swelled in the humidity and it took a full body slam to wedge it open.

I inhaled deeply, grinned, and said, "Hello! I'm terribly sorry about that. Please come in."

The man replied, "Hi. Mmmkay, I'm here to fix the A/C. You look...very busy." He was quite cordial despite obviously thinking I was insane.

"Oh, no. Well, yes. I guess. I just...was attacked by a bird, I think."

The man looked out to the porch at the adorable little budgie singing happily, narrowed his eyes, and said, "Right. I see." He then went about his business and fixed whatever the problem was with amazing rapidity. After only a few minutes I heard, "Hello? Ma'am?" He was now standing by the front door.

"Yes, sir?"

"Please tell your father the problem has been taken care of." He pushed the door open so easily it was annoying.

"Sure, I will. Thank you so much, and I'm sorry again about that!"

"Oh, it's no problem. Here, make sure you shut this door all the way. And please lock it after me. You know how it is. I don't want anyone strange getting...In?"

Like I said, bonding with a bird is... such a special experience.