A few years ago I had a popular monthly column in BIRD TALK Magazine titled, “Memo to Parker and Pepper.” It quickly became a popular feature in the magazine and was usually the first thing people read when they received their latest issue in the mail. 

Alas, the magazine went from a monthly subscription to a yearly model. There are some “Memos” still to be found at BIRDCHANNEL, but the column is long gone with the demise of the magazine.


 

However people still bring them up, talk about them and occasionally ask me questions about them. I got the idea early one morning when I was reading some emails from a company I work for. I decided it was high time to begin sending my African Greys business memos regarding their latest outrageous behavior. Not unlike a "Mommy Blog" with feathers, these column talked about the realities of living with three rambunctious and wickedly intelligent parrots who want nothing more than to get their way every single minute of the day. I think people enjoyed reading a lighthearted column about something they know all too well: Living with parrots.

I sent a proposal with some sample columns in to the editor of the magazine and they loved the idea. The editors set me up with an illustrator and the column took off. 

It was snarky, fun to write and people seemed to love them. 

Since the magazine ceased publication, people wanted to know if I would ever revive them. After much thought, I decided to do them, but in a different way.

 

With the evolvement of the internet, I decided to step up the concept of the business memo to the email. I present to you, “Email To My African Greys.”

From: Patricia <greymanagement@parrotjanitor.org>

To: The Greys <parkerpeppernyla@painintherear.net>

Subject: Health Status

I’m not one for getting my nose out of joint about you three, but it’s getting to the point where everyone wants to know how you guys are and it’s beginning to bother me. 

A co-worker will inquire,  “How’s Parker?”  

“He’s fine.”  

“And Pepper and Nyla? Are they still eating a lot?”

 “They sure are. They eat like little garbage disposers.”

 “Oh that’s great to hear! Just great! They are just so cute!”

Did you notice something here? Did you detect a glaring omission? Perhaps you might have noticed that nobody ever asks how I am. It’s as if they took out life insurance policies on you and they are the beneficiaries. 

I’m not paranoid, I’m not! I just find that the longer you guys are around and the more friends you make, the less interest people seem to be able to muster up about me and how I’m doing.

It’s not that I want people to take a morbid interest in the state of my health, but once in a while it would be nice if I picked up the phone and someone didn’t ask me to put the phone on speaker so they could talk to you. 

And since I’ve gotten the “FaceTime” feature on my iPad and iPhone, it’s gotten much, much worse. I have now been deemed the house telephone operator/videographer. Going from play gym to play gym aiming the iPad, I’m beginning to feel like a wedding photographer..

These people are obviously sadists. I must run from cage to cage waving my iPad while getting directions like, “No, I can’t see Parker’s tail! Down a little and to the left. That’s better.” 

Yet not once have any of your friends offered to come over and clean your “rooms” or help me make you so much vegetable “Chop,” that I use a huge stockpot to begin mixing it.

They take great delight in hearing about your devious capers, occasional revolts and insidious rebellions. When relating these stories to them, instead of feeling bad for me about the throw pillow that was stripped of its handsome intricate beading, I get the, “Awwww! That’s so cute! Nyla didn’t eat them did she?”

“Cute?” You three are systematically demolishing our home and they think ripping the snot out of one of my couch pillows is “Cute.”

There is a reason for this: They don’t know what it’s like to live with you full-time. I was lamenting to my friend Lynn about this subject as we were yakking over the phone drinking coffee. Lynn cut right to the chase: “Well, what did you expect? When they moved in, your life went from aviation to aviculture.”  She was right of course.

So you see? When you got here one by one, your cages and play gyms not only took over the living and dining room, your toy stock took over a closet and then you took over my friends. I guess I had it coming. Since you three have arrived, slowly but surely my life has become a succession of meals, (8,760) bird showers, (4,104) and cage cleanings, (2,749).

And we’re just getting warmed up! My free time, (Ha!) is devoted to new and innovative ways to efficiently wash the floor, (Presoak? Steam cleaner? Plain hot water? Vinegar? So many choices!) and composing interesting toy configurations on your play gyms. Oh, and let’s not forget answering the phone for you.

Eventually you will probably be demanding your own business and a separate phone line.

But now you can bask in the confident glow of knowing that despite taking over my life, you have also captured my heart.

-Management