ANTONICO

ANTONICO
C 2004 Joanna Woodhouse

Well, I’m a freelance writer, living in Ottawa, Canada, and I have had numerous articles published by several Canadian newspapers.

Although I am now a proud Canadian, I was actually born and raised in Brazil – where the nuts come from and I’m living proof of this, being the nut who got away! LOL I was born in a tiny village in Northeastern Brazil in the State of Pernambuco, called “Floresta dos Leoes,” which translated means, “Forest of the Lions.” The fact is, there were no forests, and no lions, but other than that, it was a heck of a good name! I was born at home, delivered by a Canadian missionary midwife. At the time of my birth, my parents were missionaries, but when I was three, Dad went into a seminary and took his Holy Orders and became an Anglican Priest.

We lived in various parts of Brazil, ultimately living in Rio de Janeiro. It was in Rio that we acquired Antonico, our green Amazon parrot. The way he came to us was uniquely different. Antonico had been owned by a dear family friend, a Canadian lady I called Auntie Rosa even though we weren’t related. Auntie Rosa and her husband were returning to Canada, and wanted to take Antonico with them. However, due to Canada’s strict regulations against importing birds, she was unable to get the required papers, so she gave him to us.

Antonico became a dearly loved member of our family. For some peculiar reason, he loved the ladies and hated men with a passion. My Mum, sister and I could do whatever we liked with Antonico, lie him on his back, tickle his tummy, and he enjoyed every minute of it. But let my Dad or any other man approach him, and he’d take a piece out of their fingers!

We kept his wing clipped, so his lived on a perch (and not a cage) nailed to the wall in the kitchen, right next to the window. Antonico used to love climbing down onto the windowsill, where he’d hone his beak by hacking out pieces of wood from it. That windowsill was a sorry sight, but we didn’t mind. There were blinds attached to the window to shelter the kitchen from the unforgiving afternoon sun, and Antonico absolutely loved nothing more than grabbing the cord of the blinds, and swinging back and forth, singing at the top of his voice.

Our cook, Toninha, was responsible for his care. She and Antonico absolutely hated each other. Every time she came to clean his perch, he’d lunge at her, intent on doing damage to any part of her body he could reach, while she protected herself by flapping a kitchen towel at him. She also cursed a blue streak while doing it. Need I say Antonico learned every single ones of the cuss words she yelled at him daily?

My parents were away and Dad’s Bishop was staying at the Vicarage, to take services for him. The dining room was located immediately next to the kitchen. Supper was served and we’d just bowed our heads for the Bishop to say grace, when Antonico let rip at the top of his voice, a whole string of Brazilian (Portuguese) swear words. The Bishop stopped in mid-grace, but didn’t raise his head. Instead, he glanced up at me through his black, bushy eyebrows and murmured “I hope YOU didn’t teach him those words, Joanna!” I was mortified with embarrassment!

At the time, we had a little Pekinese dog named Lady. Antonico learned her name, and he took great pleasure in yelling her name, over and over again. Lady would rush into the kitchen, expecting to see one of us, and on finding that it was a BIRD who was summoning her, she’d become extremely upset and would howl her head off. Antonico LOVED this, and the more she howled, the more he yelled her name, bobbing up and down on his perch with undisguised glee! We’d have to forcibly remove Lady from the kitchen and shut the door, to bring Antonico’s fiendish torment to a close.

The doors in the Vicarage had a wrought iron decorative grill with a hinged glass behind them. In the hot summer months, we’d leave the glass part open, so as to allow whatever breeze there was to waft through the house.

What I’m about to relate is an absolutely true event that happened exactly as written! It was around 2.00 a.m. when I suddenly sat up in bed and thought to myself “Oh my God, there’s a cat in the house and it’s about to attack Antonico.” I got up and dashed downstairs, and turned on the kitchen light. My psychic feeling was absolutely right! A stray feral cat had come into the kitchen, and at the very moment I turned on the light and walked in, it hurled itself off the floor at Antonico. The cat managed to knock him off his perch, but the fact that I was there scared it, and it turned tail, running out of the kitchen and through the wrought iron grill it had come through in the first place.

Antonico was furious. Some horrible creature had disturbed his beauty sleep and he was royally pissed off about it! His crest was up and his eyes flashing, while he cussed and swore. I waited until he’d cooled off before offering him my finger to return him to his perch. Needless to say, we kept the glass portion of the doors closed from then on.

Antonico also perfected a very convincing wolf whistle. At times, he’d whistle when a woman walked by hi cage, and it was really funny to see her expression when she realized it was Antonico giving her a wolf whistle, and not some admiring male!

Antonico’s favourite food was grapes. He’d tenderly hold one in his claw, dig his beak in and delicately remove each pip, one at a time, which he’d thoughtfully mash up with his beak and swallow. When all the pips were gone, he’d polish off the grape!

In the early sixties, I left Brazil and went to live in England. The last time I went home was in 1963. I arrived on a Sunday, and sat in the living room chatting to my parents. Antonico was in the kitchen and he heard my voice. To my complete astonishment, he fluttered down from his perch onto the floor and waddled into the sitting room. He came straight over to me, and said “Hello my darling,” and put his head down to be scratched.

After three and a half years, Lady didn’t remember me, but Antonico, bless his little heart, did. I was moved to tears by his sweet gesture, picked him up and cuddled him for hours. He loved it! I paid a lot of attention to him throughout my visit, which was just as well because I never had the opportunity to see him again.

I’d love to have a parrot, but they just cost too much money.

Thank you for allowing me to share these precious memories I have of my beloved Antonico.

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  1. Love it very interesting parrots are very special birds they are a joy to have they can fly talk walk sing whistle laugh cry curse the full works. Thanks Jo for sharing I enjoyed it.