Scared my parrot the other day. Poor Kris. He was riding around the kitchen on my shoulder as I cooked. I had a frittata in the oven that was ready. I said “stay back”, not that he knew what it meant, bent down, and opened the oven.
A sudden blast of heat came forth. Kris squawked and flew off towards the living room. Kris wasn’t hurt, just surprised and unhappy. I did not go looking for him but later heard him flying around, I did not worry, figured he sounded OK.
About an hour later I went into the living room to check on him. Kris had not gone back into his cage nor was he anywhere in the living room. I started looking around downstairs since he couldn’t have thought of going upstairs. He was not in the dining room, family room, or laundry. I looked up on curtain rods and tops of furniture. I knew he wasn’t in the kitchen with me. Oh, oh.
I headed upstairs to take a look around. I searched all the bedrooms and the bathroom. Kris was nowhere in sight.
Nobody had gone outside or come in either so he did not escape to the great outdoors. Deep trouble. (Oh, wait a minute. Trouble is the cat’s name.) Kris was not in Trouble, she did not eat him. Thank goodness she is getting old. It would have been more interesting in her younger days.
Sat down at the computer and waited awhile before I resumed my parrot hunt. Wasn’t in a rush to do another where’s Waldo.
Another hour went by before I decided to resume the search. Where oh where did my boy go? Checked the entire downstairs again. No Kris to be seen.
I headed upstairs. The first doorway straight ahead was the bathroom. There was Kris sitting on the edge of the shower stall. I have no idea where he had been before when I checked the second floor.
I extended my hand and said step up. He jumped onto my hand and I placed him on my shoulder. Brought Kris back downstairs. Immediately I brought him to his cage. Kris was grounded for the rest of the day. No more birdie chasing for me.