By Pauline James
“Have you seen these green birds down here on the floor,” my husband, Arthur, called out, as I homed-in on the tomato plants, which were the sole purpose of our visit to the farm shop that day. No I hadn’t, and after securing the best four plants displayed, I hurried over to join him.
We had been in the retailers many times, for ‘bits and pieces,’ and always enjoyed looking at their array of livestock on the way out, but was more used to finding Guinea fowl, chickens, rabbits, cockatiels, lovebirds, quail, finches and canaries. Never before had we seen parrots in there.
As I crouched down low to view the birds, partially hidden in the shadows, shrouding their tiny cage, two very sorrowful and silent Nanday conures stared intently back at me. By this time, I was on my hands and knees, with my bottom in the air, surrounded by tomato plants, which I had dumped in the middle of the floor, trying to talk softy, so as not to alarm them.