HIM: She may be a religious person, but she can’t hold a candle to St. Francis. We have any number of animals at our house, some of which are owned by our oldest son David. While he was out-of-town he entrusted her with the care of two finches named Bernie and Phil, a happy rabbit named Luna, various aquarium fish where if they have names, we’re not interested enough to learn them, a 14 year old cat named Phoebe, and an African Grey parrot named Howard (after Stern). Well, needless to say, not all went well.

She’s having a problem with her eyes in her old age and poured out kitty litter in Phoebe’s food bowl. She had no problems with the tiny finches or with the rabbit. The parrot was a major challenge. Its name may be Howard but she now calls him Rodan. I think the real problem here is that she is too squeamish, the bird intimidates her. When it sees her coming it ruffles out its feathers like an Indian warrior. Using its claws and beak, Rodan begins to stalk her as she approaches its cage. When she opened the door to change the water, it actually charged her. She managed to drop a metal bowl onto the floor of the cage and then used a long baster filled with water to try and inject fresh water for the beast.

She stopped handing him peanuts when he became more interested in her fingers. Animals can smell fear; Howard owned her. Naturally at some point she asked me to bail her out and lend a hand. I gracefully declined indicating that a person needs to overcome their fears and that she would feel liberated if she could get that bird to know who’s boss. The bird must have known that Dave was returning so he spent about 15 minutes systematically destroying everything in the cage. The paper on the floor was shredded, the water overturned, peanuts strewn about (unshelled…he was really making a point), and his toys all over the floor. The cage looked like the landfill used to look.

I knew she was at wits end when she started calling my Doberman (Madeline) over for a rump scratching. Madeline can test her nerves but not to the extent that Rodan has. When Dave returned he couldn’t believe the scene laid out before him. Howard’s posture was that of a Spartan who had held off a thousand Persians at Thermopylae.. He rushed to his liberator and showered him with loving noises and other signs of affection I would prefer not to describe. Howard spent the next several hours supervising David on the cleanup operation looking first at him, then menacingly at her. Next time, I’ll step in and show that bird who’s boss.

HER: That was a bad weekend. My intentions were good, but the outcome was horrible. I felt awful about putting kitty litter in the cat’s dish, but when I put my glasses on and noticed the problem, I had Dan get some food right away. He bought holistic cat food because it was half-price, and it turned out the cat hated it, but the cat from next door loved it so it wasn’t a total loss except that David’s cat was very hungry by the time he got home.

David said to just open the little doors on the side of the cage to feed and water the bird. When I did that, that bird came at me like Jaws. Its feathers puffed out in a hostile way and it was snapping its beak at me. I got scared, so I closed the door. That bird looked me right in the eye, or I think it did (their eyes are kind of on the sides of their heads) and he grabbed his water bowl with a claw and tipped it over so it fell to the bottom of the cage and landed upside down. That was a big problem. I took a long stick, poked it through the cage, and finally righted it, but how was I supposed to fill it with fresh water. I ran upstairs and got these long barbeque tongs that Steven gave me and poked them through the cage.

Well, that bird charged those tongs, grabbed on, and shook them in his nasty beak. He bit me one time while I was feeding him an oyster cracker and it hurt something awful. He’s bitten Dan twice. (so much for who’s in charge) and he bit Suzy , too, but he loves Dave. Howard overturned the bowl again, and once again I righted it, but there was no way I could get my hand in there to fill the bowl with water. I had brought down a pitcher of water, with ice cubes to boot, just so that mean junkyard bird could have cold, fresh water. I had to resort to aiming carefully, and pouring the water from the top of this very tall cage into the bowl. Success! But then it was time for the food.

I took the bag of veggie treats, held it over the cage, and once again aimed for the bowl, but Howard stuck his beak out through the bars and bit that bag, shook it, and caused most of the food to land on the floor of the cage. I just couldn’t believe it. This bird is so lovable when David’s around that I was astounded by his behavior. I should have doused him in holy water and called Father Higgins. Instead, I called Dan for backup. He told me to wear a heavy coat and some work gloves when it was time for the next feeding. I told him I‘d need SWAT gear and a helmet to get my hands on those bowls. You should have seen the bottom of that cage. It was sodden, and littered with colored veggie treats and peanuts everywhere. David was beside himself.

After 42 years of marriage to him, I never thought I’d say this, but compared to Howard he is definitely a pussycat.