Getting the bird

One morning I was awakened by the sounds of a strange squawking noise. While the maid’s early morning singing, leaves a lot to be desired, she does not usually make quite such a painful racket, so I ventured outside to investigate. There, ensconced in a cage outside Ms Yasothon’s abode at the back of the house, was something that looked horribly like a parrot.
While I am fond of our feathered friends, parrots are something else altogether. A proverbial pain in the posterior. I once stayed in a house with a parrot whose sole aim in life was to drive the occupants insane with its constant ear-splitting shrieking. With me it certainly succeeded. Nature lover though I am, I came close to strangling the damned thing. Hence, upon seeing this new arrival, my immediate instinct was to summon the cat and point it towards its best meal of the year.
However, Ms Yasothon assured me it wasn’t a parrot but a parakeet, which to me is a small version of the same thing. However, as it only squawks as opposed to shrieking, it is being tolerated. But if it starts calling me names…