Have a deep connection with them. Since childhood. I had a pet parrot when I was small. Quiet the same one. He was free. Not always caged. But once he never came back.
Then I had a couple of cockateil parrots and until recently they flew away.
In between I had another green parrot but it was not the rose ringed one. It was a different one. My dad had saved her from the crows when she was being attacked by them. She didn’t know how to fly. She was my favorite parrot of all. She would speak more than other parrots, and she liked me most from the family. I would give her anything to eat and she would eat it happily. She would drink milk from the spoon too. But once again, somehow she too went