Further Evidence of Understanding

Although Puck made many nonsensical utterances, simply delighting in reproducing the sounds of the English language, he also seemed capable of understanding words, as I have already noted in a few examples. There were many other instances of apparent understanding. For example, on June 8^th, 1993 just as I pulled out a notebook I had been using to record his words, he said “We copying bird talk.” Again, one evening in the middle of rapid note taking, I told him “Stop, so that I can get everything down.” He did. When I was ready I said, “Okay, you can go on.” He replied, “Thanks a lot.”

Another night I was again noting down his conversation while he played on the coffee table. When I thought he was through talking and put my pen down, he flew to my head and asked, “Is that fun?”

One day I found him clinging to a large wall mirror in the living room for the first time, and heard him exclaim “Hold on!” On another occasion he was in front of the dressing mirror and said, “Puck’s a parakeet. Puck’s in the mirror. Puck’s a mirror parakeet.”

Once he had been “locked” in his cage for about 40 minutes (which was rare). Just as we started to eat, he said “Cami, come here!” very forcefully and banged himself against the side of the cage, hurried down, and aggressively pulled on his door. We got the message.

Another time, while I was taking rapid notes on his verbiage, he said, “You write that one down.” Then again, one day I took a carrot out of the refrigerator. As I was peeling it, he said “What a carrot!” And once he hopped over to a napkin on the table and said “That’s paper.”

On Christmas morning, 1993 Mark and I were quietly enjoying coffee in the living room before preparation for the day’s activities. Puck was playing and chirping on the coffee table when he suddenly said, “It’s Christmas. That’s what’s happening. That’s what it’s all about. I love Pucky. I love everyone.” He then looked at us intently, apparently wanting to make sure this “registered,” was quiet for a few moments, and then proceeded to chirp and babble away. We humans stared at one another in amazement. We hadn’t even greeted one another with a “Merry Christmas” that morning. Of course, he would have heard us say “Christmas” a few times in the preceding weeks, and he would have heard the word on the radio. But how did he know that today was Christmas? And how did he know that the basic spirit and message of Christmas was love - - love of everyone? We never heard him say the word again.

In early 1994, Mark went away for a few days, and upon his return, Puck promptly flew to him and said, “I love you.” A few minutes later when we were all gathered in the family room (including the dog), Puck, perched on Mark’s finger, noted “Everyone’s here.”

Later that spring I put him on his cage door, to which I had just clipped fresh vegetable pieces, but he bypassed these and went to his seed. I told him “Eat your veggies,” and he quickly hopped to the door, took one bite of each, and turned around to his seed dish again. I then said “Pucky, take one more bite of your veggies,” and he turned around, came to the door, ate another bite of each, and then returned to his seed!

Around that same period, Puck was at the kitchen window sill, singing what I called his “water song,” while I washed some dishes. I started singing also, and after a few seconds, he said “Be quiet!” I, of course, stopped singing and he resumed his trilling. He wanted to hear his own voice, not mine!