From biting and cowering in fear to walking up to me, when I sit on the floor, to lay its head against my leg for a long rub along the fragile neck and head, two months IS a long time, especially when counted in the endless hours of fear and the slow gain of trust.
The way it pauses in it's feeding, when we hold the cup up for it, to tilt its head and look into our eyes reminds me of the look in our children's eyes as babies when they would turn their heads to gaze into mine in the midst of nursing, and the tears that I could not stop then from the immensity of that love. Perhaps that is why I feel such affection for this bird.
Yes, I'm talking about our cockatiel. It is beautiful, intelligent, and healthy. It loves head rubs. And bells. Reluctant as I was to raise a bird so unnaturally, I capitulated to the children's desire. Besides, it had to go somewhere. It loves the children playing soft music, talking and singing to it. It was this way that he first felt reassured, their soft singing and reading to him every so often.
And here is a video I found on You Tube for you all: