My all-time favorite African Grey story may be more legend than truth, but it is a fun one all the same.  As the story goes, the owner leaves her Grey with a friend for a couple of months.  During his extended stay, the Grey listens in on numerous phone calls between the friend and some beleaguered boyfriend or inattentive child who is repeatedly remonstrated with “you never call”.  Eventually, the long separation ends and the owner returns to collect her bird.  And the Grey, as ONLY a Grey can do, gives her the silent treatment.  This punishment goes on for several days.  The Grey won’t talk to her, won’t interact, or do any of their normal relational stuff.  Finally, one day, out of nowhere, the Grey bursts out with “you never called!”

That is a story I heard second hand, back in the day when I would have believed a Grey could change the tire on your car.  So, I won’t vouch for its absolute accuracy, but even now, I could easily imagine a Grey doing exactly that.  However, my second favorite story is one that I read about Alex, the Grey who was made famous through studies done by Irene Pepperberg.  He had been sick and was recuperating at the vet clinic.  There was a technician staying with him and Alex started asking him questions like “wanna peanut?”  The technician would answer, “No, Alex, I don’t want a peanut.”  Then Alex would say, “wanna grape?”  And the technician would answer “No Alex, I don’t want a grape.”  This went on for a few rounds until finally, Alex said, “Well, what do you want?”

Not long after I was introduced to the world of parrots, I felt a fascination with Greys.  They are famous for their intelligence and for being the best talkers.  But there was something else for me.  Something more mystical.  When I looked at a Grey, I felt like he was looking back at me … or through me, as the case may be.  It wasn’t just a factor of intelligence that set them apart from the rest of the parrots; it was a matter of essence.  I wanted to know what was going on inside of them, like they knew some secret of the universe.  It wasn’t until many years later that I came across the verse in Job 12.  Funny what our spirits know when our souls don’t have a clue!

But along with the mystique of the African Grey came the intimidation factor.  A big one.  For every funny story about a Grey there was one of their acute environmental sensitivity, or stress plucking, or boredom driven destructive behaviors, or other such fearsome outcomes.  African Greys seemed to be the domain of the parrot professionals.  You know, the people who have more birds than people in their houses.

So, here I was, now a decade or so after Charlie, and I had a whole new frame for my relationship with birds.  I knew there was still something special with parrots, and the longing to have one again was growing stronger.  Could my life handle it?

There had been a massive amount of growth and change in that decade and things felt a lot more stable than they had when I moved.  After doing some hard thinking, I decided that my life could handle it, or, I would make it handle it.  A larger factor in the decision making process went back to design.  I wanted to know what was there.  What had God put in me that I was so blissfully ignorant of the first time around?  What could I learn about walking out my calling?

I decided that I would begin the process.  I wanted a baby this time, so that meant finding a breeder and getting on a waiting list.  There was a wonderful bird store near me called Omar’s that had an excellent reputation for breeding.  I put in a request for a Yellow Naped or Blue Fronted Amazon.

Yes, that’s right.  Not a Grey, even though that’s what I wanted the most.

I was still too nervous.  I thought I’d better practice up and get a Grey later on.  But then a friend got a hold of me and asked me why I was holding back.  Why was I investing this much in something that was less than what I knew I wanted?

Now, I understand there are many situations where practice and incremental investment is necessary.  But in this case, I knew in my gut that my friend was right.  I had a bounty of resources inside and outside of me.  All that was blocking me was fear.

So, I called the pet store and asked them if I could change my order.  Instead of an Amazon, would they please find me a Grey?

And then, all there was to do was to wait.