Chloe is my 3 year old, Howard is my husband’s parrot. He is an African Grey, which is short for loud-mouthed-pain-in-the-you-know-what. I don’t claim him. I don’t even like him. But I cohabitate with him because Gary loves him.
As much as I despise this bird, he sometimes says things that make me laugh. Take for instance the conversation that just occurred between him and Chloe. Yes, they talk to each other. And may I set the scene for you: Howard is in his cage and Chloe is in the bath tub, halfway across the house (and I am in the bathroom in case you were wondering who is monitoring my little fish).
Chloe: Howard, we are taking a bath.
And there you have it.