“Shut up!”
I drop the blanket. There are a lot of things I’m willing to do in this job, but arguing with a cheeky cockatoo is not one of them.
“It’s dark in here.”
This is going to get annoying fast. “Goodnight, Dave.”
“Goodnight, Dave,” he says.
Dave sighs and doesn’t make another sound.
“Just what I need,” I mumble, walking out of the room.
I call the vet and leave a message to see if he can stop by to give Dave a checkup. Unfortunately, I’ll have to keep Dave separated from the other animals until I get a clean bill of health from the vet.
Ruby bumps into my leg on her way to her water bowl and I reach down to pet her head. “You should probably stick with me today, girl. I’m not sure you’re ready for the likes of Dave.”
The next few hours fly by as I finish up the chores that Jerry interrupted. When I return to the office to check on Dave, I find him sitting on Tess’s shoulder. She’s thumbing through a book and he is looking over her shoulder as if he’s interested in what she’s reading.
“I take it you and Dave have become friends.”
Tess and Dave look up and then she frowns at the bird. “You told me your name was Simon.”
“That’s my name, don’t wear it out,” he says, bobbing his head.
“I’m starting to think the bird doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” I say.
“I’m not so sure about that. I’ve been doing some research and cockatoos are incredibly smart,” Tess says, raising a reference book she likely got from the book shelf in the office.
I pull out a chair and sit down. “What else did you learn?”
“Well, they like Kale, broccoli, carrots, sweet potato, and squash.”
“Ew,” Dave—or Simon—squawks.
Tess laughs and continues. “They also eat fruit in moderation, and should always avoid chocolate, avocado, caffeine, dried beans, pretzels, and alcohol.”
“Grab me a beer!”
“Sorry, Dave, I only have Tequila,” I reply.
“Simon says, shut up!”
My mouth drops open and Tess chuckles. “He’s funny, isn’t he?” she asks, clearly smitten with the bird.
“Sure, if you like being lied to and told to shut up.”
Tess reaches up and pets the bird. He pecks at her hand with is beak and she yanks it back. “I think he’s cute. If you don’t have anyone else in mind, I’d love to foster him.”
“What? Really? You don’t know anything about birds.”
“I can learn.”
“Are you sure you want to?”
“Why not? I’ve got nothing else going for me. Simon can keep me company.”
I rest my hand on hers. “You’ve got lots going for you.”