Sometimes I have an entire conversation with Ripley before stepping back and realizing how cool that is.
I arrive home late from a potluck and the house is dark. From the bottom of the stairs I say, "Hey Ripley, I'm back."
"Wanna come out," he answers, which is a pretty standard reply when I first get home. It's midnight, way past his bedtime, but he hasn't been out of his cage at all today because we're dog sitting my mom's very untrustworthy dog (with whom Ripley is unfortunately fascinated). So I say, "Sure."
As I walk into his room he lifts up a foot in a way I recognize as meaning "I'm ready to step onto your hand," so as I open his door I say, "Let's go in the kitchen." I offer him the chance to poop in the trash can, but he declines with a small clicking noise. I ask him if he would sit on a chair, but warn him that first I need to move Coat Shirt off of it (shirt is his catch-all word for clothing), and he makes a little "hm" of acknowledgment.
After he steps onto the back of the chair I say, "I've gotta go downstairs, can I leave you up here for a minute?"
"Okay," he answers as I leave the room.
Upon returning I say, "Thanks for waiting in here." It's taken years of practice for me to talk to Ripley like he's a person (he is), but now it's second nature. He gets insistent if I'm quiet for too long.
"Do want a carrot," Ripley says, leaning toward the fridge.
"I can get you a carrot." My usual reply when he asks for a healthy food. I hand him a baby carrot from the fridge.
He takes a couple bites and shakes the carrot around gingerly in his foot. "I like it."
"I'm glad. Can I touch you?" I reach out to pet his back but he gives me a subtle look: a twitch of his pupils and a fractional declination of his head that means "no thank you." Ignoring this is a serious offense.
"Okay, no touch. A kiss, then?" He leans toward me and squints: an invitation. As I lean back, he makes a trilling sound and smushes the top of his head against my face. "Thank you," I say.
After several more kisses I ask him what kind of bedtime treat he wants. "A peanut."
A lot of our conversation is verbal, sure, but a good deal of it is also nonverbal. Most parrots don't talk, but all of them communicate with their flock in very precise, intentional ways.
Today at therapy was really hard. I was sitting here crying, and generally being miserable, when I felt a nudge at my knee. I looked down to see that Zeus, my service dog, was doing his job… and brought me a potato. it is very hard to cry with a gift of potato.
Remember this? I’m having a rough time right now. Zeus has a solution.
That would be an empty pill bottle, the *correct* pill bottle, a bottle of embossing powder, and two, TWO potatoes.
You’re worth at least 2 potato to him and that’s pretty special imo.
I would just like to remind you all that *I don’t own any potatoes* and I have no clue where he’s getting them from.
bellaxiao
Parallel Earth.
AMAZING
I LOVE
IN THE FIFTH GIF HE PATS THE CUPS WITH HIS LITTLE PAWS TO MAKE SURE IT’S IN. BRB, DYING.
ARE YOU KIDDING? LOOK AT THE 7TH GIF HOW HE JUST HANDS THE CUPS TO THE PERSON AND IS LIKE, “HERE HUMAN, YOUR FEEBLE TASK FOR ME IS COMPLETE. NOW LEAVE US BE.”
the-girl-who-laughed
THEY’RE SO CUTE, OMG. I CAN’T.
crunkellove
THE GREATEST THING ON THE INTERNET SINCE THE LAST TIME OTTERS WERE IN A THING ON THE INTERNET.
drugar-mechok
Reblogging purely for the last one
This is like a shot of a woman running where the camera focuses on her cleavage. Except it’s a man, not a woman. And a pug, not boobs.
the part of howl’s moving castle where he cries WHAT’s THE POINT OF LIVING IF I CANT BE BEAUTIFUL and generates gallons of ectoplasmic slime from every pore because he accidentally messed up bleaching his hair is INCREDIBLY relatable
