Many years ago, when dinosaurs still roamed the land, or it felt like it, I had a pet Rosella, an Eastern Rosella in fact. I can't remember when he/she came into my/our care, it's so long ago. I assume it was because we found him injured. This would be around 50 years ago probably before things like WIRES. All I remember is he used to fly around our (then city) home, shrieking a cry that sounded to me like Quincy, so that became its name (after one of my favourite arrangers of the time, Quincy Jones).. It's amazing how you can become attached to wild creatures ( no, not you darling) and not want to release them when they're well again, an experience I've had so many many times over the years. Anyway, it wasn't a painful separation I had to go through with Quincy. One day he was flying round the house like an F-35, in and out of rooms, weaving and ducking like it was the Battle of Britain, when the doorbell rang. Unthinking I opened the door and he was gone. I hope he had a good life.
