I like little birds. I really do! But I’m afraid of them. I’m not afraid of them per se, but I’m afraid of their delicacy.
I know that sounds weird, but when you have a few rather robust African Greys lounging around your living room, the thought of handling these little pipsqueaks puts the fear of God in me. They’re just so delicate! So fragile. I’m afraid that just one wrong move and I’ll end up hurting them somehow.
I know that I shouldn’t feel that way, but I feel like this enormous “Gulliver-like” creature and I’m so afraid I’ll hurt one. This is silly of me. I’m not bothered by big birds at all. I’ve worked with 30 pound penguins and Andean Condors with an 12-foot wing span at the Cincinnati Zoo.
But it’s the little guys that worry me…