Quaker Parakeet gets some early Christmas presents

I finally caved.

One too many times I walked into the pet store to find a fun toy for Simon and came out empty-handed.

So when my father handed me a $10 coupon to an online pet store, I took the opportunity to stock up on some early Christmas presents for my little green Quaker Parakeet.

I intended to buy a couple of items because I don’t like buying Simon’s toys online. It’s hard to get a good idea of how big the toys are, how they feel, or the sounds they make when vigorously shook.

Simon and I have been together for about eight years and by now I know his preferences: It’s more fun if it can be dismantled and the noisier, the better.

After much consideration, I ended up ordering $60 in toys. But I had that $10 coupon. That’s not all bad, right?

When the box came, I pulled out the toys and played with them all, ultimately pleased with most purchases, although one toy was a little big.

Then I went upstairs and dismantled Simon’s cage and scrubbed it top to bottom in the bathtub while he perched on the shower curtain rod and glared down at me. He seems to really hate it when his cage gets the super cleaning.

Once everything was spotless (though with Simon, nothing stays that way for long), I installed the new toys. For this process, Simon sat atop his cage and glared.

The first toy was one I had considered buying for a few years. It’s a rope perch. The long, colorful braid is made so that you can make twists and turns, spirals and ledges for Simon to climb all over. I waited to buy it for so long because while I thought it was cool, it was a little pricy and I had no idea how Simon would take it.

As it turns out, he loves it.

Every night when I come home, he’s snuggled up with his beak buried in his back feathers, sitting on the rope perch. What used to be his favorite perch, which is still in his cage, has been forgotten.

Another toy was a large circle with bits of twig and paper designed to be shredded. It was bigger and fluffier than I anticipated, but I made room in Simon’s cage anyway.

I did not need to worry. Simon quickly tore the toy down to size.

A purchase I thought long and hard about was a cell phone.

This one is not unlike those colorful plastic ones you buy small children that talk when you smash the buttons. Actually, it is exactly like that.

It has four buttons and each one says something different. Cortney, our housemate, and I struggled to decipher one of the phrases. It sounds like “Tylenol bird” but after many button mashings, Cortney determined it actually says “Calling all birds.”

“I’m going to regret buying that,” I told Cortney. She agreed.

But so far, I’ve been wrong.

Every time a button is mashed on the phone, Simon glares at it with severe distrust, leaning away from the weird, child-like voice. In fact, he hasn’t gone near that toy. At least, not when I’m home.

And to date, Simon has not asked for any Tylenol.