Wilf hovered over the birdcage, eyeing it with affection. He had to admit Polly did look a little large and she did seem to enjoy a bit of raw meat.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He’d got the chick from a stranger in the pub who said it was a baby parrot. Scruffy thing it was and looked starving. Something in the way it looked at him pulled his heart strings .<\/p>\n\n\n\n
”How much for him, bearing in mind it looks half dead ?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n
After a bit of bartering two bob was agreed on. Wrapping it inside his coat, Wilf staggered home, thinking his wife would be pleased. She had always wanted a bird, even had a large cage from her mum. Rosie looked at the pathetic bundle of feathers; all she had to feed it was some bread but it ignored it, tweeting its disgust. Giving it some water, she retired to bed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A whole new routine descended on the household. Wilf and Rosie were retired, the children all left home, so Polly became their child. They couldn’t afford a vet so they tried different foods, even some cod liver oil but Polly wasn’t eating. By the end of the day the poor bird was sinking. Wilf put his hand in the cage and it bit him. He jerked back and it lurched forward to bite again, taking a chunk and swallowing .<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Wilf and Rosie looked at each other stunned.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
”I think I may have been sold a pup, I don’t think it’s a parrot.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
” There are some giblets in a bowl in the larder. I will cut some up and try him with them.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Life became a round of finding scraps for Polly. Word spread and neighbours called round to see the chick. Many speculated on its origins, a bird that ate meat became a morbid fascination for many. As she moulted her feathers were a honey and brown, her beak curved, her eyes button bright .<\/p>\n\n\n\n
One evening Polly started screeching. They looked down, a mouse was running across the floor. Wilf leaned over, releasing the catch. Polly swooped out, her eyes never leaving its prey, caught it, swallowing it whole just a tail protruding.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
”Well would you believe it? We could make a few pennies from her Rosie. Billy down the pub was complaining about mice the other night, bet he would pay a couple of pennies to hire her. ”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
So life took a new path, Polly made them a bit of money and they cosseted her. Wilf would sit stroking her sleek body, thanking his lucky stars that he had saved her .<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Wilf hovered over the birdcage, eyeing it with affection. He had to admit Polly did look a little large and she did seem to enjoy a bit of raw meat. He’d got the chick from a stranger in the pub who said it was a baby parrot. Scruffy thing it was and looked starving. Something in […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"rop_custom_images_group":[],"rop_custom_messages_group":[],"rop_publish_now":"initial","rop_publish_now_accounts":{"facebook_10158782359051062_103813597863211":"","twitter_1225722811282530305_1225722811282530305":""},"rop_publish_now_history":[],"rop_publish_now_status":"pending","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[1490,1518],"tags":[1536,1126,733,95,8,7,122,20,885,1534,1535,14,863,11,1533],"class_list":["post-2322","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-1490","category-february-2025-rescue","tag-became","tag-bird","tag-bit","tag-had","tag-he","tag-her","tag-him","tag-his","tag-looked","tag-polly","tag-rosie","tag-she","tag-some","tag-was","tag-wilf"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/pbrNJE-Bs","jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"post_mailing_queue_ids":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2322","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2322"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2322\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2323,"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2322\/revisions\/2323"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2322"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2322"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2322"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}