This is Paulie. Paulie joined the family about twelve years ago, when we ran into him in a pet shop. I'd wanted a small parrot for a while, since I knew that was all I could afford, and when I saw this little green-cheeked conure perched unhappily in a cage, his chest bare of feathers because he'd plucked them all out, well, I felt sorry for him. By contrast, the sun conure that shared his cage was brilliant in every way: cheerful, sunny, brightly colored. But there sat Paulie, naked before the world and wanting only to be loved for who he was. I fell for it, and I'm pretty sure I got a discount for buying him naked.
It took a while before his feathers grew out. I knew they would - self-pluckers usually have some kind of psychological problem, and I figured he wouldn't go crazy as a result of living with us. Turns out I was right, surprisingly.
I know he looks sweet enough, but he's actually a little shit.