I am a lucky, colorful, Brazilian guy. I have had a cat’s nine lives because I am 65 now. I have had lots of families. I was found at an art fair booth across from my mum and she fell in love with me. She ogled me for three days. The artist “boy” across from her grew up and couldn’t keep me. I sat proudly on the artist’s shoulder and was very, very quiet for three days so that she would keep me. Once I was “in”, I cried and screamed like a real baby, which scared visitors outside the studio. I cried perfectly since at one time, I had a baby sister. I was too loud for the artist’s art classes at home, but the children thought I was crazy fun so I would start dancing and bopping around and being an appreciated hambone.
You might say that I am a bit of a troublemaker, but at least I am generous with all of my shiny green, red, yellow and blue feathers floating around the studio. These are our party favors. When it’s dinner time, it is always my job to be the supper bell call and bring everyone to sit. “Ay caramba!”, I screech. I demand an honorary place at the table. But first dirty birds take a pre-dinner bath in mum’s painting water.
I pay for my keep by posing with my fancy-colored costume in mum’s children’s book illustrations. They would all paint Paco Valentine cards every year. I am the star because I don’t know how to be any different than the most important man of the house. Best of all, when it’s dark and the blanket is laid across my perch home, I sleep quietly through the night and do not snore. Mum says that it is the only time I am quiet!
