Quaker Parakeet in need of fearless babysitter

Both Simon and my roommate were pretty relieved.

I had planned to take a little vacation time not long ago, leaving my little green Quaker Parakeet in the care of my roommate, Catherine.

Simon hated the idea. He always hates any plan that does not involve him. Catherine wasn’t too keen on it either, because while she likes Simon, she is neither fond of sticking her hands in his cage nor of the possibility that he might escape.

Luckily for both of them, the plans got postponed.

Catherine’s fears are firmly rooted in Simon’s past behaviors.

He hates pet sitters. He would much rather I pack up his Cheerios and his pellets, cover the car seat with a sheet and drive off into the sunset while he critiques my skills behind the wheel from the back seat.

To Simon, being in the car means we are headed to Grandma’s, and Grandma’s means Yum-Yums, otherwise known as walnuts.

When it comes to trips on which Simon is not invited, all of the manners that he follows with me are chucked. He turns into a screaming, biting, temper-throwing, Cheerio-heaving tyrant who strikes fear in the hearts of most any pet sitter.

The skills and gentleness of the pet sitter don’t seem to matter. If you aren’t in Simon’s selected few, he tells you in no uncertain terms that your hands have no business in his cage.

The coping mechanisms of his sitters have varied. Some create a funnel to dump new food in his dish. Others wear oven mitts. Some demand elbow length leather gloves or chain mail protection.

Simon is not a large bird, but he has a commanding presence, particularly when angry, and he’s not afraid to take on creatures much larger than he is.

On one particular vacation, Simon went home with the veterinarian who brought him to me. Richard Brinegar took him home only to find that Simon wanted to take on Richard’s scarlet Macaw, Rhett — a bird of such size that he could probably eat Simon in three bites.

This amused Rhett, and he pretty much let my little green bundle dominate.

The only pet sitter who has ever been able to tame the little man is Lori Snow and that’s because Lori is somewhat of a Snow White — all the woodland creatures love her.

She first won him over by bringing her McDonald’s lunch with her when she came over to feed Simon. The little green spitfire is a French fry fiend and would plot out fry attacks.

Over French fry raids, they bonded.

The bond was so strong that I often wondered if Simon wanted me to return. Every time I came home, however, Simon would jump all over me with kisses and love. But I am sure that he hopes that I will come home with a fry for him.

Simon’s not found a pet sitter since Lori whom he cares for that much. Every time I leave him, I fret. I know that the people recruited to care for Simon would never harm him, but I still worry that he feels abandoned and that my pet sitters feel abused.

Have bird, will travel.