Mango

Mango was nine years of song. He learned the opening notes of three different ringtones, the wolf-whistle from an old movie, and a tune we never figured out the source of — we just called it "Mango's song."

He'd ride on a shoulder during dinner, tilt his crest when curious, and tap on his little mirror to say good morning. For such a small bird he had an enormous personality and absolutely no doubt that he was the most important member of the household.

The mornings are too quiet now. Sing on, little one.