In college I lived with a guy who had a hand-fed baby parrot. He used to go all around with the thing on his shoulder while it crapped all over him. Used to let it fly all around the house too. Miserable little bugger. I'll stick with my cat.
Who was the visionary that realized that Meyers Parrots grow some yellow plumage on their head, and came up with the fantastically ingenious name "Colonel Mustard" for that cute little bird of yours? Whoever he is, I think you should buy him a beer for that little gem of a name.