I have a feathered friend parrot, his name is Yasha. I have he lives for a year. I am very glad to have such a smart feathered friend. It is bluish-white, very like to eat dill, bread (even though we do not), apples and cucumbers. He loves to play with a favorite ball, still sleeping and walk across the floor. But he's not the usual wavy parrot, and a rare breed "Czech wavy". His feet are warm, hot and cold. He loves to bathe, and after bathing he needs somewhere to warm up, and he climbs to the Pope under a t-shirt. And one day he had a story. When dad was drinking beer, a parrot walking on the table and climbed up on the glass. Dad turned away, and Yasha fell into the glass. But then his dad quickly pulled out, and more parrot not when it sits on a glass of beer.
We Yasha carry to the country and sometimes even manufactured to fly in the house. At home it's not such a big cage, and in the country. It was left over from my mother's parrot, and he was great.
We have Yasha quickly settled down and got used to all of us. He loves my great-grandmother and goes to her room. When we bought it, it was quite tame, and now he sits on the shoulder, on the head and back. We all love it!
And once under the new year, we released him to walk. And that's before the new year remained half an hour, we decided to put him in a cage, because I had to come visit. We went to look for him. I looked at my parents in the room — no kitchen — no living room — also no. Mom immediately burst into tears, but dad kept looking. And as we have four room apartment, dad decided to look in the smallest room, where Yasha never flew. And here is the dad heard the sound and saw that our Yasha sitting on a flower and eats it. And from that time a parrot is very fond of flowers and fresh green grass. I'm glad I have such a small friend!