Dunderhead

You're all familiar with those oh-so-helpful adages like "Don't paint yourself into a corner" and "Don't saw off the branch you're sitting on." Some of us learn them the hard way.

Here's a picture of the ornery little cuss I live with. His name is Pablo. His reputation is that he's the meanest bird in the West.

I think it's a well-deserved reputation. His ilk tend to attach themselves to one person and everyone else best keep their distance.

He has an uncanny ability to intuit when I'm planning to leave, whether for a little while to, say, go to the post office, or perhaps on a long trip. Most of his detecting skills, I'm sure, are based in what clothing I'm wearing. He knows my stay-at-home clothes as opposed to my going-away clothes. He also knows what suitcases are for.

Here he is in the loft where my computer is located. He sits on a stand, with water and seeds available. I've wrapped the round perch with a towel and fastened it with plastic ties. He's able to sit on it more safely than on the wood itself.



Most of the time, he's content to sit there and chuckle. Or nap.





However, on occasion he gets bored. That's when he does this:





And yes, he's chewing on the plastic ties. If he keeps it up, he'll soon be upside down, flapping his wings and blowing feathers and seed hulls all over my desk and the rest of the room. Of course, he will somehow decide that this situation is all my fault.

When I first thought of posting these pictures, I was reminded of a cartoon that had tickled me many, many years ago. I'd saved it and found it in a box of mementos a few years ago. Now I can't find it, of course.

The cartoon was of a parrot hanging upside down from his perch and saying, "Alright, who waxed my perch?"

Dang, I wish I could find it. It would complete this post in a most satisfactory way.