Results: A parrot's understanding of Object Permanence, and the Search for Self

My father wrote about our parrot's sleep ritual: When we first see Bongo each day, we greet him with "Good morning." Bongo sussed out what that meant and began using it himself when he woke up. Similarly, at night we would tell Bongo, "Good night. Have a good sleep. We will see you tomorrow." Now, when he starts to get sleepy, he will say "Good night, Bongo." If we need to invade his space after we have already gone to bed--even if we never turn on a light--he sleepily and grumpily says "Good night, Bongo." On at least one other occasion he said, "Go to sleep!" Would you benefit from having the sleep police living in your kitchen?

Have you ever dodged a question to avoid upsetting someone? From my father's journal: We didn't realize how thoroughly Bongo had sorted out that good night sequence until I had to spend several weeks in the hospital. Peggy reported to me that he would ask many times a day, "Where's Mel?" Now, there was one answer (Playing tennis) that he took to mean "it's temporary, he'll be back soon", but Peggy did not want to LIE to a pet(!), so she always ignored the question. Toward the end of my stay, Peggy reported with tears in her eyes that as she was leaving the house she conversationally said to Bongo, "I'm going to go see Mel now. He's in the hospital and he's not coming home today." In normal rhythm Bongo said, "tomorrow?"

Bongo moved in with us 6 months after my father passed away, when mother moved to assisted living. Between occasionally being boarded, and my father's hospital stays, Bongo learned that if he was patient enough my father would always return. And so, for almost three years, he would walk around my house, peeking in each room, asking "Mel, where are you?" And I learned that I am more like my mother than I ever imagined, ignoring the question because I didn't want to lie to a pet. Have you ever had a moment that made you realize you are becoming your parents?

One blessing in Bongo's understanding of searching for people, is that if he's gotten lost in some corner of our house, potentially up to no good, we can call out "Bongo, Where are You?" and he'll make an appearance. Other times he will try to play hide and seek, but his hiding skills are questionable at best. Have you ever played hide and seek with a pet?