my uncle tom had a parakeet...pete...and he took that bird everywhere...i mean everywhere...for years... and that bird could talk up a storm...bit of an alcoholic my uncle was...actually died from a liver rupture...anyway...he carried pete in his shirt pocket and his back and front pocket of his pants (see i'm getting to why i told u about his drinking...) well in those days mens pants were pretty baggy so he could carry pete around in the front and back pockets and even sit on a bar stool with pete in his back pocket...well one time at the tavern...uncle tom fell off his bar stool, pete tucked securely in his back pocket...pete was fine til uncle tom bent over to pick up his broken glasses and forgot to give his pants the customary tug up that always put pete at a safe level on his hip...uncle tom didn't leave his apartment for weeks after his best friends death...