Day two hundred and fifty-three: Weekends are a great time to give my green-cheeked conure some extra attention. He loves being held in the palm of my hand, and to be given little scritches around his beak and eyes. While he enjoys little bird bliss, it gives me the opportunity to look closely at his glassy, black eye, surrounded by white skin and tiny, colorful feathers. The reflection is the bay window in my Philadelphia apartment.
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