Heavenly Beverley : The Bird Brain Goes Walkabout

Red has been an integral part of our family for over five years now. An Eastern King parrot and native to the east coast, he was bred in captivity by our then neighbour, the magnificent and alluring Lorna Johnstone. Lorna's only minor problem was her ability to become involved with blokes who turned out to be most unsuitable. At the time she was hand-rearing Red, she was also throwing out her third husband. She made the decision that she was unable to care for her menagerie, her vast family and successfully raise the parrot for sale. So, she offered him to us with the idea that we would split the proceeds when we did put him out on the bird market.

This has never happened.

Lorna has remained happily single ever since.

Red initially had a distinct issue with his name. He was green, rather than red. Apparently male Eastern Kings start out green and gradually become red. The girls remain the emerald green for the duration. Red took a very long time to change colour. He had the appearance of a checkered court jester for almost two years.

Whilst his feathers remained ambivalent during his lengthy adolescence, his character became all male. He has developed an impressive vocabulary, which he only utters when he wishes to do so. He also has honed a piercing screech to remind us when he is bored. His laughter is, unfortunately, all me. He calls the Problem Child incessantly every now and then (Ruby! Ruby! Ruby!) and then whistles loudly to add to the general mayhem. His terrible table manners have never improved and he occasionally will bathe in his drinking water. The aftermath is never attractive.

During the festive season, he adores climbing into the Christmas tree for fun.

His favourite regular pastimes are sitting on some unwary person's shoulder, attempting to attack glasses or earrings. Leaving an undesirable waste product comes a close second. Taking off for a loop around the house is also popular entertainment. The downside is that he regularly crashlands or seeks shelter in the washing or the pantry or the living room shelving.

Red was last out of his palace earlier in the week. He sat, passively and exceedingly well behaved, on Michael's shoulder for quite a long period. In fact, Michael was such an unexciting perch that Red nearly fell asleep. No poohing, no squawking and no ear-grabbing. We were astounded. Perhaps Red was turning over a new leaf.

Then, with no warning, he took off. Frantically flapping to gain height, he passed the Beagle in her normal state of unconsciousness under our desk. Ruby did actually try to eat him, energetically and surprisingly, once and Red has never forgotten. Pip watched the bird anxiously from the front door mat. Red came to an abrupt halt as he careered wildly into Michael's candlesticks. I went to rescue him and return him to the safety of his home for a Bex, a cup of tea and a lie-down.

Red decided he was having none of that. He launched with typical inelegance and passed my ear en-route. As I had my back to him, I had no idea where he'd gone. Only a startled look from Madame Cat, her sleep rudely interrupted on our bed, gave the clue that Red had flown into our bedroom.

So we began looking for him and his latest crash site. We checked in our wardrobes and the shower. We even peeked into the loo as the lid was up. No sign of him. We wondered if he'd somehow gone further afield so we widened our search area. Behind the TV unit. In the laundry sink. Caught up in a half-open umbrella. Hidden in the linen or the ironing. We were completely stumped.

I resumed a careful search of our bedroom. The cat had resumed her usual slumber. I was just about to give up when I caught a small flash of red on our Green Paw-Paw walls.

The mischievous minx had landed on the frame of one of our pictures. A pastel riot of flowers, into which he blended perfectly. Plus his back was facing outwards and he was almost exactly the same colour as the shade of our bedroom. No wonder we couldn't find him.

I returned him to his cage with a flea in his ear. He was completely unimpressed and promptly turned his back on me. Then he retired for a well-earned sleep after his Great Escape.

With granddaughter Bianca and great-granddaughter Tamsin, Lorna is known far and wide simply as "Nan"...