We actually found Friday ~ on a Friday. We were living in Goldendale, Washington at the time and my mother was running a local motel.
I do not remember exactly how we heard that there was a loose parrot flying around town, we just heard. I remember someone saying that it had flown into a tree across the street. Well, the tree it happened to fly into happened to be and still is, one of the tallest tree's within the city limits of Goldendale. It is huge, and it sits in the front yard of what we all called "The Golden House". Members of the founding family of Goldendale, the Golden's, used to live there.
No one knew who the bird belonged to, no one was claiming the bird. My mother had always wanted a parrot, so my sister, Angie, decided that she was going to climb up that tree and grab him. It took her a while to get to where he was at, about 3/4 of the way up. When she got there, he didn't fly away odd enough. She was able to grab him and start to climb down. Of course, being a bird, he hated being held tightly like that, but she didn't want him to fly away. She finally made it down and we noticed that he had bitten her many times and was bleeding, but Angie, being an animal lover, did not mind. She took him in the house and immediately made sure he was ok, then took care of herself.
My parents put up fliers saying that we had captured a lost parrot, call to identify, but no one ever did. We decided to keep him, and we named him after the day we found him on, a Friday.
Friday was not very old when we found him, on the information given by an exotic animal vet. So we are estimating on the birth year. After many agonizing months, Friday finally learned how to say "Hello" but never would learn anything else, no matter how hard we tried. One of my fondest memories was whenever he would see me coming in from the school bus he would start squawking "Hello, hello, hello..." until I came in the door and picked him up. He'd give me a kiss and go back to the top of his cage.
He hated men for some odd reason. Given the chance he would bite one, and did at one time. He actually took a chunk out of a gentleman's nose that was warned to stay away but would not heed our advice. He backed away after that. Friday loved females however. He loved to walk up one's arm up to their shoulder, lean in and give a kiss. He also enjoyed shredding paper, especially the ones that we were reading at the time, and he loved stealing earrings. Another one of his favorite pastimes was torturing my cat, Babetta. She would lay on top of his cage for a nap and he would crawl up the side and snatch her tail. Babby would then start to bait him by dipping her tail in and out of the cage, just out of his reach.
Friday had gotten a cold and one morning we found him in the bottom of his cage. Such a sad day for everyone. We had Friday since I was 10. We had him cremated at a pet crematory in Hood River and set him next to my kitty until the day came that we could spread their ashes over the hills in The Dalles.
I do not remember exactly how we heard that there was a loose parrot flying around town, we just heard. I remember someone saying that it had flown into a tree across the street. Well, the tree it happened to fly into happened to be and still is, one of the tallest tree's within the city limits of Goldendale. It is huge, and it sits in the front yard of what we all called "The Golden House". Members of the founding family of Goldendale, the Golden's, used to live there.
No one knew who the bird belonged to, no one was claiming the bird. My mother had always wanted a parrot, so my sister, Angie, decided that she was going to climb up that tree and grab him. It took her a while to get to where he was at, about 3/4 of the way up. When she got there, he didn't fly away odd enough. She was able to grab him and start to climb down. Of course, being a bird, he hated being held tightly like that, but she didn't want him to fly away. She finally made it down and we noticed that he had bitten her many times and was bleeding, but Angie, being an animal lover, did not mind. She took him in the house and immediately made sure he was ok, then took care of herself.
My parents put up fliers saying that we had captured a lost parrot, call to identify, but no one ever did. We decided to keep him, and we named him after the day we found him on, a Friday.
Friday was not very old when we found him, on the information given by an exotic animal vet. So we are estimating on the birth year. After many agonizing months, Friday finally learned how to say "Hello" but never would learn anything else, no matter how hard we tried. One of my fondest memories was whenever he would see me coming in from the school bus he would start squawking "Hello, hello, hello..." until I came in the door and picked him up. He'd give me a kiss and go back to the top of his cage.
He hated men for some odd reason. Given the chance he would bite one, and did at one time. He actually took a chunk out of a gentleman's nose that was warned to stay away but would not heed our advice. He backed away after that. Friday loved females however. He loved to walk up one's arm up to their shoulder, lean in and give a kiss. He also enjoyed shredding paper, especially the ones that we were reading at the time, and he loved stealing earrings. Another one of his favorite pastimes was torturing my cat, Babetta. She would lay on top of his cage for a nap and he would crawl up the side and snatch her tail. Babby would then start to bait him by dipping her tail in and out of the cage, just out of his reach.
Friday had gotten a cold and one morning we found him in the bottom of his cage. Such a sad day for everyone. We had Friday since I was 10. We had him cremated at a pet crematory in Hood River and set him next to my kitty until the day came that we could spread their ashes over the hills in The Dalles.
We actually found Friday ~ on a Friday. We were living in Goldendale, Washington at the time and my mother was running a local motel.
I do not remember exactly how we heard that there was a loose parrot flying around town, we just heard. I remember someone saying that it had flown into a tree across the street. Well, the tree it happened to fly into happened to be and still is, one of the tallest tree's within the city limits of Goldendale. It is huge, and it sits in the front yard of what we all called "The Golden House". Members of the founding family of Goldendale, the Golden's, used to live there.
No one knew who the bird belonged to, no one was claiming the bird. My mother had always wanted a parrot, so my sister, Angie, decided that she was going to climb up that tree and grab him. It took her a while to get to where he was at, about 3/4 of the way up. When she got there, he didn't fly away odd enough. She was able to grab him and start to climb down. Of course, being a bird, he hated being held tightly like that, but she didn't want him to fly away. She finally made it down and we noticed that he had bitten her many times and was bleeding, but Angie, being an animal lover, did not mind. She took him in the house and immediately made sure he was ok, then took care of herself.
My parents put up fliers saying that we had captured a lost parrot, call to identify, but no one ever did. We decided to keep him, and we named him after the day we found him on, a Friday.
Friday was not very old when we found him, on the information given by an exotic animal vet. So we are estimating on the birth year. After many agonizing months, Friday finally learned how to say "Hello" but never would learn anything else, no matter how hard we tried. One of my fondest memories was whenever he would see me coming in from the school bus he would start squawking "Hello, hello, hello..." until I came in the door and picked him up. He'd give me a kiss and go back to the top of his cage.
He hated men for some odd reason. Given the chance he would bite one, and did at one time. He actually took a chunk out of a gentleman's nose that was warned to stay away but would not heed our advice. He backed away after that. Friday loved females however. He loved to walk up one's arm up to their shoulder, lean in and give a kiss. He also enjoyed shredding paper, especially the ones that we were reading at the time, and he loved stealing earrings. Another one of his favorite pastimes was torturing my cat, Babetta. She would lay on top of his cage for a nap and he would crawl up the side and snatch her tail. Babby would then start to bait him by dipping her tail in and out of the cage, just out of his reach.
Friday had gotten a cold and one morning we found him in the bottom of his cage. Such a sad day for everyone. We had Friday since I was 10. We had him cremated at a pet crematory in Hood River and set him next to my kitty until the day came that we could spread their ashes over the hills in The Dalles.
I do not remember exactly how we heard that there was a loose parrot flying around town, we just heard. I remember someone saying that it had flown into a tree across the street. Well, the tree it happened to fly into happened to be and still is, one of the tallest tree's within the city limits of Goldendale. It is huge, and it sits in the front yard of what we all called "The Golden House". Members of the founding family of Goldendale, the Golden's, used to live there.
No one knew who the bird belonged to, no one was claiming the bird. My mother had always wanted a parrot, so my sister, Angie, decided that she was going to climb up that tree and grab him. It took her a while to get to where he was at, about 3/4 of the way up. When she got there, he didn't fly away odd enough. She was able to grab him and start to climb down. Of course, being a bird, he hated being held tightly like that, but she didn't want him to fly away. She finally made it down and we noticed that he had bitten her many times and was bleeding, but Angie, being an animal lover, did not mind. She took him in the house and immediately made sure he was ok, then took care of herself.
My parents put up fliers saying that we had captured a lost parrot, call to identify, but no one ever did. We decided to keep him, and we named him after the day we found him on, a Friday.
Friday was not very old when we found him, on the information given by an exotic animal vet. So we are estimating on the birth year. After many agonizing months, Friday finally learned how to say "Hello" but never would learn anything else, no matter how hard we tried. One of my fondest memories was whenever he would see me coming in from the school bus he would start squawking "Hello, hello, hello..." until I came in the door and picked him up. He'd give me a kiss and go back to the top of his cage.
He hated men for some odd reason. Given the chance he would bite one, and did at one time. He actually took a chunk out of a gentleman's nose that was warned to stay away but would not heed our advice. He backed away after that. Friday loved females however. He loved to walk up one's arm up to their shoulder, lean in and give a kiss. He also enjoyed shredding paper, especially the ones that we were reading at the time, and he loved stealing earrings. Another one of his favorite pastimes was torturing my cat, Babetta. She would lay on top of his cage for a nap and he would crawl up the side and snatch her tail. Babby would then start to bait him by dipping her tail in and out of the cage, just out of his reach.
Friday had gotten a cold and one morning we found him in the bottom of his cage. Such a sad day for everyone. We had Friday since I was 10. We had him cremated at a pet crematory in Hood River and set him next to my kitty until the day came that we could spread their ashes over the hills in The Dalles.
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