“Good morning, Tweety Bird,” I lifted the cage’s covering and peeked at my tiny companion.

Tweety ruffled his feathers and hopped towards me. I opened the wire door, and he flew into the kitchen.

“Tweety Bird want toast.” He cocked his head, waiting for me. “Tweety Bird want coffee.”

He pecked his empty saucer.

I placed a crumbled cracker on his plate, and he chirped his approval. I sipped my c...