Bird in hand

I walk to the back room. Morgan is sitting on her cage dispassionately looking at me. At least it is not the malice she has flung my way for most of the summer. I greet her.

Walking to the living room I turn on the television, Carl and Sam are at the surf event and I have just gotten back from the winery tour. I love those. They always seem to work out fairly well. The people who come out for them are always interesting.

I channel surf, ending up watching a documentary about the Aussie and South African surfers who hit the scene in the 70’s. Morgan begins to whistle as she decides that she wants to be social. I whistle back. Call and response begins.

Eventually I return to her room and offer a lift to the living room. She looks at me, deciding if she will accept or if it would be preferable just to bite me. She hops onto my hand apparently not having to think too hard about it. I deposit her on her perch. The whistling stops and she begins to watch me and the television while grooming.