Feathered Friends, Feathered Therapy Animals

I love New York. The bustle. The food. The arts.

The people.

Last week, when visiting our son and his girlfriend, we walked down the busy sidewalk to enjoy brunch before going to a show (the bustle, the food, the arts all wrapped up in one delicious package.)

In the distance, a woman in a wheelchair rolled toward us. “She usually has a parrot on her shoulder,” Steve remarked.


(Note: this is not the woman’s parrot…this is an actor playing the role of the parrot.)

“Wait…a parrot?” I asked. “As in, a real parrot, or a stuffed animal parrot?”

“A real parrot,” he replied.

So of course, I had to talk to her. “Hello!” I called. “Where’s your parrot today?”

She stopped and smiled. “Oh, I’m coming back from church,” she replied. “I can’t bring him anymore. He sings too loud for the congregation.”

But she was only too happy to share pictures of her colorful roommate. Turns out, her parrot is a therapy animal. He keeps her company, talks to her (yes, they have real conversations – he doesn’t only “parrot” her words!), and can call for help when necessary.

I love New York. The bustle. The food. The arts.

And the people. Including the feathered, furry and fuzzy ones.



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