The Comet of our family is a bird. Her name is Coco. She loves my dad and hates me with the passion of a thousand suns. It’s funny how life works out when you’re the one who supposedly she loved and brought her home but the tables turned and now it’s a story of betrayal, love lost, and the journey to find it again.
Here are some Coco-isms:
- She will spend her days either eating, napping, or freaking out when someone enters or leaves the room or the phone rings or anyone does anything of minimal interest. Someday we hope to find a parrot-to-speech converter and learn of her thoughts. Or do we, sinister as they may be? Sorry, Coco, I’m onto you.
- She might think her name is Sneha, we’re not sure. Sometimes she responds to it. It’s a little weird for me, having my identity almost stolen, but we’re working on it.
- We got her when I was 9 years old and so now she is 11 years old. In my opinion, still acts like a child (granted she is a bird and has the mental capacity of a 2-year-old child, I still think she’s a little immature).
- She’s really soft and fluffy when she’s sleepy and has the cutest bright red cheeks and that’s when it’s a ballad of love.
- But then she attacks me a little and it’s hate (well considering she’s like 6 ounces, she can’t really maim me, but it’s not pleasant for anyone.)