The sun has gone down and daylight is fading quickly. Meekull is singing, his head thrown back, his beak open, to belt out his song as shrilly as he can. "Meekull, honey. You sing so pretty." He repeats the verse. "It's almost night-night time." He stops and peers in my direction. It's bedtime. He flounces and flutters as the cage wheels catch on carpets on his way to "bed". He considers the nightly ride to the corner of the bathroom a circus ride. Then comes his blanket. He loves his bird-patterned fleece blanket. It's tents his cage and provides cozy comfort. Before pulling the blanket down over the front of his cage, Meekull hops to the topmost branch and does a little dance. It's his latest thing. He puffs himself into a ball, spreads his wings slightly, and vibrates in pure delight. I call it his shiver dance. I reciprocate by fluttering my fingers in front of him. We go a few rounds until he's satisfied. Once done, he hops up to his bed, the highest corner branch in his cage. Meekull huddles down, his soft tummy feathers covering his little feet. "Night, night, Meekull. I love you too." He cocks his head and whispers a little tune so softly I almost miss it, right before he tucks his little beak into his velvety chest. I draw the blanket and he sleeps.
