Cajun died in 1989 at two years of age from liver disease. We're not entirely sure whether it was caused by fatty liver disease or aflatoxin poisoning, suggested by the pathology report, but we were heartbroken at losing him.
I got him in 1987 as we were preparing to move into our house. I had gone to the pet store to get seed and other necessities for our budgie, Cisco. When I entered the store, sitting out on the counter was a type of bird I'd never seen before -- a robust, compact, green and gray parrot. He seemed to be acting very friendly and I stretched out my hand to him in a tentative greeting. To my surprise he climbed onto my hand and clambered up my arm to my shoulder. "You're certainly a friendly little bird," I told him. I walked through the store picking up the various items I needed for Cisco. As I walked back towards the counter my new found friend began garbling sweet nonsense in my ear. I was absolutely smitten at that point, and hated to leave without buying him on the spot. "But, I'd better talk this over with Jim first," I decided with a pang of matrimonial duty.
When I told my husband about my pet store adventure, I asked if it wouldn't be a neat thing to have a new pet for the new house, especially a reasonably priced little parrot. "No," he responded, and that was that.
By the time Jim came home from work the next day, I had bought Cajun and all the appropriate food, supplies, and toys, and had even named him. Jim muttered something about spending money needlessly, but picked up Cajun, said a grudging hello, and spent the next hour walking around the apartment with the bird on his shoulder. He was just as hooked by this little hookbill as I was. By the end of the night, he was planning his pirate costume for the upcoming Halloween and speculating at how enchanted trick-or-treaters would be by HIS parrot.