Bobbi’s face lit up. “He’sincredible.”
“He hates you,” I said.
Markie snapped his beak hard.
“That’s a warning,” I added. “You’re standing too close to his house.”
Bobbi leaned forward anyway, careful but curious. “What kind is he?”
“African Grey,” I said. “He’s emotionally aggressive.”
Markie rattled the bars and yelled, “FUCK OFF!”
Bobbi frowned. “That is inappropriate.”
Markie paused. Then tried again. “OFF!”
“Progress,” Bobbi said.
I closed my eyes. “I love him, but I regret everything.”
Markie switched registers. “HOW MAY I HELP YOU TODAY?”
Bobbi smiled. “Customer service.”
“He does that when he’s mad,” I said.
Markie clicked. “RESTART YOUR SHIT!”
Bobbi absorbed this. “That one is also inappropriate.”
Markie clicked again, sharper.
“What does that click mean?” Bobbi asked.
“It means he’s deciding whether you’re a threat,” I said. “He’s thorough.”
Markie screamed directly at her.
Bobbi nodded once. “Fair.”
I dragged the box toward the balcony door. “I’m moving this outside before he escalates. Too much clutter.”
Bobbi followed, keeping a respectful distance from the cage. “Moving day is loud.”
“He hates strangers,” I said.
“I think he hates change,” she said. “New person. New boxes. New smells. His system says something is wrong.”
I cocked an eyebrow at that.
“He watches you,” she added. “Every time you move, he moves. Every time you stop, he gets louder.”
“He needs a job,” I said. “Or a hobby.”
“It’s a job to him,” she said. “Parrots bond hard. If their person is off, they get loud about it.”
I looked at the cage.
