IN THE GRANDS’ KITCHEN NOW, Gwen reviewed her parrot duties. Four items were capitalized at the top of the list.

FOOD

WATER

FLOOR OF CAGE/CLEAN DAILY

(plastic gloves in box on kitchen counter)

CONVERSATION X 1 HR TWICE A DAY, A.M. & P.M. (allow time for response)

Beneath these items, the list went into an unreasonable amount of detail: Wash pellet bowls and food dishes. Replace cage-floor papers. Monitor Rico’s intake accurately. Wipe down cage wall weekly. It’s important to wipe perches. Supplies are under kitchen sink.

This was a cosseted parrot, accustomed to princely care. The back of the page contained threatening information in red about what Rico was capable of if he lacked companionship and satisfactory conversation.

If he clings to the side of the cage and beats his wings rapidly, that means he’s upset.

He’ll work at keeping his feathers in good condition. If he’s stressed or bored, he could start pulling them out.

Plucking feathers was a true threat. Gwen hoped Rico would not become petulant and start plucking on her watch.

Before you leave the house each day, turn on the radio, preset to CBC—soft voices, good mix of music and conversation. A parrot can DIE from loneliness. Turn off the radio during your visits to allow for exclusive interaction with you. On weekends, a favourite is Michael Enright’s Sunday Edition. A good mix of human voice and music.

If you feel confident after a few days, let him out of cage for brief periods. You’ll have no problem getting him back inside. He returns for food, treats and water. Remember that cage is home. He likes his home.

I’ve left new foraging toys in a basket. Change toys in cage as you wish. You’ll know when he’s bored. Some toys have a nut hidden inside. Add treats.

Gwen dug into her shoulder bag and pulled forth a clump of tough-looking kale. She hacked off a two-inch chunk and fastened it to a metal clip. Kale is a treat, she reminded herself, though she was doubtful. She went back to the family room, kale in one hand, broom in the other. Rico was staring hard. Gwen understood that he needed to know where she was at every moment.

“Come on, Rico,” she said. “I’m not so bad. You’re a pretty boy, did you know that? A pretty boy. Look at those tail feathers. What a gorgeous red!”

He flipped his bird body and walked upside down toward her, his parrot toes easily grasping the top bars from inside the cage.

She changed her tune. “You’re a dude, Rico. A real dude.” Rico is highly intelligent, Cecilia Grand had written. Challenge this intelligence!

What did Cecilia know? Well, maybe he really was.

He continued to stare with his head upside down. No matter where Gwen stood in the room, she could be seen. Rico climbed down a bar of the cage sideways, as if to prove something. His entire body remained horizontal; he was still staring.