This is copypasta, and long copypasta, to be exact.. But Polly deserves to be remembered and respected, because I'm sure there's many other birds like her out there, and because I understood and connected with why she acted the way she did.
I got Polly a little while after I got Nibby, as the family I got them both from decided to let the youngest girl keep her bird because she didn't want to give up her bird(she threw a royal tantrum the size of the titanic), even after finding out how much work she'd have to devote to her.
In case you were wondering, the other girl, who owned Nibbler, held him for less than five minutes after she got him home and the moment he pooped she lost her pansy-*** mind, shook him off her hand, and attacked her floor with a spray bottle of bleach. She gave him to me in a heartbeat, the crazy girl..
Well.. Polly's story started out just as pathetic and ill-thought-out as Nibbler's, but worse, she was also abused..
The little girl who kept her let her out of her cage and shut her out, and made her fly around for a long, long time.. She'd hold her, then toss her up into the air to make her fly, and she played 'catch' with her friends with the poor bird, and tied strings around her legs like a leash so she couldn't fly away.She never changed her seeds or water((her water was a pool of gray congealed slime and her food dishes were either flyaway shells,or completely empty)) and the cage was filthy.
Polly also started to 'lose' feathers((the important flight feathers, and the bigger tail feathers)) and blood was appearing on her perches and the ends of her wings and her rump where she lost them. The girl had been plucking out her feathers and making 'jewelry' with them..
The mom didn't know(she was disabled and couldn't exactly keep up to well with her kids, that's why I tend to stay there to help; her youngest daughter is only nine, but she bullies and controls, and her eldest, 14, who is my best friend and baby-sis adopted is just a lazy ****) and when I showed her Polly, she gave her to me and Polly moved in with Nibbler. They became friends and mates, and then I got to know Polly.
Polly was really smart, and knew a lot of phrases. The only person she turned out to like was my dad, and she was very, very mean. She would'nt let anyone hold por touch her, and you had to catch her to get her out. Usually when you caught her, she'd bite. I can't blame her, after the way she was kept, but she had an even greater fondness for music than Nibbler, though metal and the like didn't entirely make her happy. She'd bob her head and twitter when she heard any kind of dance or techno, she mostly liked DJ Mystic or DJ Rankin...
She was very pretty. I think she was a lutino, I'm not sure, ((pure yellow, black eyes, white cheeks)) and she was amazing, she really was.
She was kindof bossy to Nibbler, but she preened him all the time, and they talked and sang and played and chased eachother all over the cage and out. She liked to preen my dad's beard and mustache, and she'd sit up on his shoulder and watch him play Command&Conquer. Her favorite foods were ritz crackers, mango, fresh tomato, and lettuce, though sometimes she'd eat the barbecue chicken or olives from my pizza.
When she had her babies and they hatched, she was an incredible mom, and almost never left them. I have to commend her for her defending them the way she did when I changed the food and water dishes or cleaned the cage. I have scars on my hands from her little beak and claws.. ((considering how she was raised, I can understand why she'd be so ultimately hostile when I put my hand in her cage near her babies- she wanted to protect them so.
She passed a while back, and that's because my cat had a litter and one of the kittens climbed up on the cage and pulled it down.
I was there in the room on my bed when it happened, and though I tried to catch the cage, I was too late.. The babies were fine in the nestbox, and so was Nibbler- he'd been in there with them. But Polly got killed, I think by the chewing stone on the bottom of the cage((it was a knife-sharpening stone, and it was better than a cuttlebone,plus it lasted a lot longer)) fell on her, but she died.
I checked her over, cried, and then buried her wrapped in purple velvet in my backyard. Before I buried her, my mom told me to show her Nibbler, so he'd understand. He preened her face a little bit and made soft noises, then flew away. I felt so bad, because she was really a good bird, just so misunderstood and ill-used. I loved that pretty baby.