I was walking down Mission and there, right on the shoulder of a bootleg CD-jam merchant, was a swaying little parrot with a cowboy hat strapped to his round, round head.

It was one of those small, instant-joy sights that you don't even slow down for. You just spot it, turtle your head forward for a closer look to confirm that yes, that is indeed what it is, then you keep on walking, maybe smiling, maybe digging your hands deeper into your pockets and giving your nether-tummy a little "yay world" hug through the fabric of your pants.

Of course when you're in a pet store, everything's different. There, you have to stop and log some major QT with the animals. Blowing gently on the hamsters and watching them crane up at you with pin-top eyes straining and neverending teeth parting against your wind. Rocking along with the chameleons as they burn three minutes placing one Mork-forked hand in front of the other. Circling the budgie cage as they bluster and flap and meep-meep to stay on the side of the cage furthest from you. Inadvertently driving the toucan into a beak-knocking frenzy with flashes from your vinyl, midget-pants-shaped purse. Et cetera!

Paul and I were at PetCo once, back when it was Sammy's Pet World, and we heard sighing and crooning coming from the lower tier of the bird cages. So we squatted down for a closer encounter and found an African Grey dozing with eyes three quarters masted. Straining, we could hear he was talking to himself in a breathy, sing-song voice. "I can flyyyy," he said. "Oh, yessss."

Later, I told my dad about the awesome dream bird, and he said, "Sounds like some old hippy to me."

(PS: My diary has officially moved over to my official evany.com website. Let's meet up over there!)

(PS: My diary has officially moved over to my official evany.com website. Let's meet up over there!)