I’ve had two birds named Angel in my adult life, really in all my life. You see, I’ve always liked birds. I had three birds when I was growing up, but it’s different when you share a pet with your siblings as opposed to them being all yours.
Angel was my first bird that was all my own. I named her/him after Angel on the tv show Angel, and Angel died after only about six weeks.
Shortly after, I had gotten Hawkeye and then Dakota. It was after Dakota’s death that I got both Angel and Jewels from a rescue. Angel was mean and untrusting to the point where the rescue handled her with gloves because she would bite so hard.
I never used gloves with her. She did bite me a lot, but I would take her into another room away from the other birds and spend time with her, told her to be nice with her beak, and slowly, started to see a change in her. She is still a little skittish around people, but she allows me to hold her, and she no longer bites.
She’s come a long way in the years that I’ve had her, and I love her dearly.