by Betty Castleberry

Created on: July 19, 2008   Last Updated: July 21, 2008

If there's one thing humans don't understand, it's how exceptionally intelligent I am. Never let the term "bird brain" fool you.

I'm a red-fronted macaw, and there aren't many of us left in the wild. People have gone into Bolivia where my wild cousins live and removed a lot of the trees, so my cousins don't have a place to live. That makes me sad, but enough about that. This story is about all about me. Me, me, me.

My name is Jake, and I'm a looker. I've got olive green feathers with patches of bright orange on my shoulders. When I raise my wings, you can see my gorgeous blue feathers. There are a few in my tail, too. My head is so beautiful; it will take your breath away. I wear a crown of cherry red, and have a fetching patch of tiny black feathers on my face. If you could see me, you would swoon. The silly humans that think they own me kiss me all the time. They can't get enough of me.

I mentioned my intelligence, as well I should have. When I wake up in the morning, I squawk a little bit. I've figured out just the right amount of noise to make so I can get my humans to feed me. Heck, let's just drop the pretense. They're not my humans, they're my servants. Anyway, if I make too much noise, they get annoyed, but I don't really know why. Noise making is one of my specialties.

There is a woman servant who lives in my flock. She feeds me every morning and has figured out my likes and dislikes. I like my sprouts fresh and mixed with a little fruit. If I don't get a couple of peanuts and almonds, I gently remind her. An extra jungle yell or two will usually do the trick. Tarzan's got nothing on me.

After breakfast, I want some kind of amusement. You should see what my servants do. I've actually seen them singing and dancing around my play stand. If I had a video camera, I could make a fortune. Sometimes I ride on their shoulders. I tolerate it because I know it's my duty to appease them.

I've got lots of toys, too. I once heard one of my servants say my cage looked like Disneyland. I don't know what that means for sure, but as long as I don't get bored, it's okay with me.

When I first came to live with my servants, I had to train them to my schedule. They actually thought that sleeping past sunrise was acceptable. Can you believe that? What nonsense. When the sun is up, I am too. I've got messes to make and stuff to chew up. I don't want to sleep half the day away.

Speaking of messes, what's all the excitement about? I don't see the problem with flinging food out of my dish. My servants used to get pretty excited about it and would hover over me. Now they just casually pick it up and throw it out. At one point I had a pretty good start on an art project. A few strategically tossed raspberries made an attractive hot pink abstract on the white wall behind my play stand. After all my work, though, the woman servant scrubbed it off. She's got a lot of nerve, but it won't stop me. I heard her say beets were on the menu for tomorrow. That's great, because I've got a new art project in mind.

At the end of my day, I've trained my servants to put me to be when I'm tired. I make some pitiful sounds, and they come and get me. They cuddle me and scratch my head, and say things like "poor baby." Then they give me a treat when I haven't even asked for it. I realize it's hard for them to resist my charms. My servants are so gullible. It's not long after this that they put me in my cage and cover me up, which is what I wanted all along. I tell them "night, night", because they seem to get a kick out of it. I usually spend a few minutes before I go to sleep planning what new tricks I can teach my servants the next day.

That's how a normal day goes for me. See? I told you I was smart.

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