Tuesday, August 17, 2004

When the grandfather clock strikes nine in this household, it is time to put Lucy to bed.

Wipe the top of the cage and perches with Lucy chasing the cloth, clean the dishes and wash and refill the water bottle, change the newspaper in the bottom every other day, and add pellets to the 24 hour snack dish.

Put Lucy on my shoulder, lower the pleated blind behind her cage, turn off the Lucy light - a floor lamp that stands next to her cage (with a personally decorated linen shade in cranberry and pomegranate, very nice with the walls) - and get a goodnight kiss.

Lyman is usually in his office chair. "Time to go nite-nite, Lucy. Can you give Lyman a kiss?"

Sometimes it works for him. Sometimes it doesn't. Lately, she has taken to faking yawns right in his face. Then she turns to me, gives me a kiss, and into the cage she goes, to the highest perch, without a single bonk.

"Nite-nite, Lucy."


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