Mirror, Mirror

What does my cockatiel Carlisle see when he stares obsessively in the mirror each day? It has got to be something good. He approaches that mirror with confidence, a sort of cocky walk, crest raised high and whistling. He talks to himself, he chortles, whistles, he taps on the mirror.

Can you imagine if I did that every day? Wake up, get dressed, get groomed and then approach the mirror. I saunter up, shoulders back, head high and say, “Hey there, cutie. You’ve got it going on. Nobody is better than you. Just check you out.” I would imagine my imaginary self talking back to, “You said it sister. You GO girl!” I could wolf whistle, sing to that girl in the mirror, and give myself a high five.” If I did this every day, several times a day, I would probably have that crazy confidence that Carlisle has.

He greets me everyday with a whistle. He knows his cage, Natty’s cage, the playgym – heck, my whole office is his. I give him food and water; he gives me a quick chortle of acknowledgment before he goes about his own business, in his own time, his own way. Maybe I should have Carlisle write a self-help book, “I’m A Pretty Bird.” I bet it would become a classic.

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