Homer was a mynah bird with a good vocabulary. There are some great examples of them here (none are of our bird, but you’ll get the idea). One of the things he did was a creepy, stage whispered “hello baby!”. He sounded like some dirty old man. One night when my grandma was visiting, she got up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom. As she walked back toward her room, Homer piped up “that’s a good boy!”.
He was half right, anyway.
He loved brown lunch bags and would crawl into one and scuffle around until he faced its opening. If you got near him when he was in his bag, he’d peck at you. He loved grapes and would even catch them when you tossed them to him.
That “hello baby” nearly got us into trouble one time! We traveled from Illinois to Indiana to visit my great grandma, and brought HOmer with us in a styrofoam cooler modified into a carrier. There was a plexiglas window in the top, and windows cut in the sides. Toothpicks served as bars in the windows. Mom and dad sneaked him into the Lum’s restaurant with us and stuck the carrier in the booth by the wall. At one point, just as a waitress walked by, Homer let loose with his “hello baby!” whisper. I don’t remember, but mom recalls the waitress assumed it was my dad that said it and was very offended!
Homer met an untimely death. One day mom came home to find Homer dead in his cage. My father’s German shorthair pointer, Charlotte, was always eyeing Homer. Though my father denied knowing anything about it, my mom’s always thought Charlotte did Homer in somehow, maybe scaring him into a heart attack.