Bobby: How We Met
Bobby—my Boo-Boo.
If he had his way, there’d be a permanent perch bolted to my shoulder, and that’s where he’d live. He’s just a piece of my soul.
Let’s backtrack to the beginning.
Before becoming a full-time artist, I spent 15 years working as a domestic cleaner. One day, I was at a client’s house when she told me about their new "babies." They’d been given parrots as service animals to help with anxiety—two beautiful conures. In the other room, though, was this sweet baby bird, about five months old.
We locked eyes. That was it—we were in love from the first moment.
I started bringing him treats during my visits, sharing tips with my client about bird care, mental stimulation, and proper diets for exotic parrots. I know birds—they’ve always been my thing.
So, every time I came to clean, I’d look forward to spending time with these feathered babies. And then tragedy struck.
Videos started circulating of devastating floods tearing through Creswick. There were rivers running through people’s hallways—it was unprecedented.
I called my client frantically:
“What do you need? What can I do?”
The aftermath was unimaginable. Their house—along with almost half the town—was destroyed. Everyone was relocated. Well, the humans were.
I did what I do best and took in the critters while the family was displaced: the pair of conures, two Murray River turtles, a blue-tongued lizard, and Bobby.
The family stayed in distress for over six months, trying to rebuild their lives. About a year later, they were able to take their conures back—but the rest stayed with me.
By then, Bobby and I were bonded. He wasn’t just visiting anymore—he was part of my family. Separating us now would cause him irreversible stress. We belong to each other.
These days, Bobby and Precious are happy together outside in their aviary.
One day, I’d love to build them a huge flight aviary down the side of the lounge room—something that connects right to the windows so they can have the best of both worlds.
One day.
One day.