“What am I in for, exactly? Do I need gloves? A hazmat suit?”
He lets out a low chuckle, and my stomach does a little jiggly dance. “It’s not that bad. He’s pretty tidy for a parrot, but yeah—you’ll have to scoop out the droppings once a day and change the cage lining. There are paper rolls in the cabinet, here.” He opens the cabinet to show me.
“Whatcha doing?” Fergie nips at the side of his cage.
“He gets all worked up when we’re in his space but not paying attention to him,” Callum says. Glancing at the clock on the wall, he sighs. “All right, come on then.”
When Callum opens the cage, Fergie flits onto his arm, shuffling up his forearm to perch on his shoulder.
“Should I show you how to play with him?”
“Oh yes.” I nod. “The fun stuff.”
Callum scratches the side of Fergie’s neck gently before picking one of the puzzle toys from a low shelf. It’s shaped like a wheel, with little compartments that open and close.
“This is his favourite game,” he explains, setting the toy on the floor and crouching beside it. “He has to turn the dial to open the compartments and find the treats inside. You just put tiny bits of walnut in there and close them up. Watch.”
I kneel beside Callum as he shows me where to place the treats. Fergie flutters down from his shoulder, eyes already locked on the wheel. With almost shocking precision, he nudges the dial with his beak, then twists it with his foot until the first lid pops open.
“Impressive,” I breathe out.
Fergie pulls out the walnut and releases a triumphant whistle before looking at us both. “Smart boy!”
Callum stands up. “I wish I had time to show you more, but I’ve got to go.”
Fergie cocks his head, his beady eyes glinting with mischief. “You lose.”
I press my lips together to keep from laughing, but Callum just sighs and turns to me with a blank expression. “See how encouraging he is?”
Before I can reply, Fergie launches into a raucous, off-key tune I don’t recognize, his little body rhythmically bobbing from side to side.
Callum groans and scoops him up with practiced ease, returning him to his cage. “Football anthem of the London Lions,” he mutters. “Not who we’re playing tonight, but he likes to torment me.”
I can’t suppress my laughter this time, giggles bursting out of me. “Why don’t you teach him the Regents anthem?”
Callum arches an eyebrow as he locks the cage. “Don’t you think I’ve tried? It’s no use. Annoying me is his favourite pastime. That, and sabotaging any sleep I try to get.”
Fergie lets out a victorious cackle, clearly proud of himself.
“Oh—and,”Callum adds, swinging to face me, “if you wake up to a fire alarm, don’t panic. It’s probably him.”
My eyes widen. “Right. I forgot about that.”
“He likes to keep the adrenaline flowing.”
“Speaking of,” I say, glancing down the hallway. “Where do I sleep?”
“Right.” Callum rubs the back of his neck. “Almost forgot. I’ve got three spare bedrooms—two on the top floor and one at the end of the hall here.”
“I’ll take this one,” I say, pointing down the hall. “Closer to Fergie. Just in case.”
“I figured you’d say that.” His lips twitch, the corners curling into a half smile that I wish he'd just fully embrace. I’m dying to see his smile again.
“Well,” he says, turning back to the cage and reaching through the bars. “Ferguson, I’ll see ye in the morn.”
Fergie flies to him, perching on Callum’s forearm and bowing his head for a parting scratch.
“Be good, okay?”
