Piper, our rescue parrot, is the most independent being I have ever met. Since we adopted him six years ago, I have tried to get him to allow me to cup him in my hands and hold him to my chest as I was able to do with our first bird. This guy’s not having it.
He loves to cuddle in other ways though. He will perch on my shoulder then sidestep towards my neck until he is pressed up against me, often buried in my hair. There is no way to tell where he begins and I end. Any chores I had planned must wait; I will not be the one to break contact with this warm feathered soul.
I love when Piper plays and causes his very special brand of mayhem, his spirit strong and unique. I even love it when he ignores me when I want him to step up onto my finger. He knows his own mind and feels safe and secure enough to act on it. But when he follows his heart, mine damn near explodes.
