Brian stood back while Conley began walking to the center of the solarium. There was a flurry of wings as Sir K descended to land on Conley’s shoulder, screeching, “Con back. Con come.”
“Yeah, I did,” Conley replied, ruffling the macaw’s head feathers.
Sir K shook his head to restore them to order then nipped Conley’s ear. “No messy me.”
“Very messy you,” Conley retorted, pointing to a pile of seed husks on the floor beneath one of the bird’s bowls.
“Messy you.”
“Excuse me?”
Sir K began grooming Conley’s hair. “Messy.”
“Okay, I’ll give you that. It’s time I get it cut again.”
“It’s fine the way it is,” Brian said, joining them. “Your clothes, however,” he added, realizing what he hadn’t before, that they definitely did not fit. “What did you do, grab the first thing you saw off a c
