My first real pet was named Jimmy. He was a blue budgey as you can see. In Ireland my dad would breed birds. Lots and lots of birds. We had a huge avery out back, and there would be hundreds of them in there. Jimmy was a lucky one, because he got to live inside. Or maybe not so lucky. He survived many a scary adventure. Like the time a cat got in the house and tried to eat him. Or the time I burnt down the kitchen, he lived in the kitchen. He survived that event 3 times. Yes I burnt the kitchen down 3 times. I blame the toaster, and Saturday morning cartoons. How so you might ask? Well the toaster would not pop up when the toast was done. So I would put my bread in, push it down, and go back and watch cartoons. I would forget about the toast and it would catch fire and burn the cabinets and walls and well you know the rest. Nothing like running up the stairs to your parents who are asleep in bed and screaming FIRE! on a Saturday morning. They hated that.

In the picture I do not look very happy, well the reason is, Jimmy just took a crap on my head, you can see a little turd if you look real close. They say if a bird craps on your head its good luck. I think he was just trying to get me back for all the times I almost killed him. I guess I deserved it, Thanks Jimmy.