They named me Polly. How clicheish. Every parrot I have ever met is named Polly. By the way.. “I Hate crackers.”
This cage up so high, I am getting dizzy.
At least the stupid cat cannot get to me. The look on that ball of fluffs face every time she looks up at me, ruffles my feathers.

The kids run around, skate board through the house and play music too loud.

Someone sticks their hand in to add bird seed and change my water. They never leave the cage door open long enough for me to fly out and taste freedom.

When they go away on vacations, the dog gets to go, to the kennel I hear, but still gets out of the house. The cat, gold fish and I stay were we are, at home.

Kind old Mrs. Beasley comes in to feed us, and change my papers at the bottom of the cage. She always puts the comic section down, bless her heart.

I hear a ruckus. They’re back. With crackers. Oh Joy.