Skipper Story

I was five years old in this picture and that's my parakeet, Skipper on my shoulder.  My parents would talk to him regularly and through a short period of time Skipper was speaking and repeating several words that they had taught him.  I don't recall them all, but remember that he could clearly pronounce and say "Hello", "Pretty Boy" and "Pretty Bird".  He was an intelligent parakeet.

Below is a true story...

I remember one evening my parents had our church reverend, Rev. Fred Hagge, over for coffee and the 3 of them were sitting around our little dining room table off the kitchen where in between and off to the side hung up high from the ceiling was Skipper’s cage.  It was a rare occasion having Rev. Hagge in our house and to me was a bit surreal.  I had never seen Rev. Hagge outside of church before. And it was strange seeing my dad drinking coffee rather than whiskey and beer.  I got to sit quietly at the table awhile the 3 of them talked. 

Now Skipper always got excited when friends or guests would come over.  And this evening was no exception.  Except for some reason, tonight he was extra active and making a lot of noise.  Chirping loudly, shaking his head up and down and moving quite vigorously back and forth inside his cage.  So much to a point to where he’d get his cage to slightly swing from side to side.

Rev. Hagge was talking when for a moment he paused and looked up at Skipper’s cage and said, “That’s quite a bird you've got there.”  Standing up from her chair my mom walked up to his cage and replied, “Yes. That’s Skipper.  He’s very excited to see you.”  Skipper froze as he saw my mother approached him when she asked, “Can you speak?”  “Pretty bird. Pretty boy.”  Right away Skipper was repeating, “Pretty bird” and went back to being excited from the attention he had received as my mother went back to her chair and sat down.  Skipper continued speaking different words that he had been taught awhile Rev. Hagge went back to talking.

All of a sudden, as clear as day, Skipper loudly said, “Son of a Bitch!”  Instantly my parents froze as Rev. Hagge said, “Oh, my.” and the 3 of them in unison turned their heads to look up at Skipper’s cage.  Both of my parents jaws were dropped as a moment of unease and silence filled the room when suddenly Skipper began repeating, “Son of a Bitch!”… “Son of a Bitch!”  My mom embarrassingly said, “He’s never said that before.  We didn’t teach him to say that.” as my dad was quickly draping the large nighttime beach towel over Skipper’s cage to calm him down agreed saying, “No. We didn’t.”

A short time after, Rev. Hagge left. Right away my dad switched from coffee to beer when my parents began arguing my mom yelled, “Well Frank, your the only one who swears and says that!  Where do you think he learned it from??”