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.

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