Sometimes loud, sometimes intrusive, but always a funny and unexpected feathered friend. 

 

Meet Kiko. 

I remember my trip to Dallas, Texas as not something I looked forward to. I was sent by my then employer to combine a recruiting trip with a business survey to be conducted in a pet store.

The pet store itself was a miserable place, owned by a couple who had bought it on a whim from a previous owner and really had no idea what they got themselves into. As a result they filled their store with many exotic animals but they were located in a very deprived area, so their offerings did not meet with the real demands of the location.

In the middle of the store they displayed their collection of big parrots. What a cacophony of sound and brilliant colors! And one of them was Kiko. 
I do not know why I simply fell in love with this bird, but I did. And so 18 months old Kiko and I became a pair.

After buying him from the owner on the spot, I then had to get him home to Chicago. 
First we still had to spend the day and night in a hotel, and that is the time I found out the fact no one really thinks about, but birds are true pooping machines! I still laugh, when I think of our time in the Marriott Court Yard Hotel, trying to outsmart the security cameras and housekeeping staff in order to not get caught.

And I think of the irony of having to buy a ticket on an airplane for my big bird to bring him home to Chicago with me, as well as the ride from the airport to my home, which Kiko managed on top of the passenger seat back rest, taking in all the surroundings with great aplomb. I remember the many passing car travelers, who gave us double take looks as they drove by my car spotting a big, colorful bird on the passenger side.

And I definitely remember the day Kiko uttered his first words: High, Kikoboy!
Since then he has become a true chatterbox, telling me "I love you" whenever I need to hear it.