This Man Touched My Parrot
Would you take your brand-new, adorable pet to a quirky veterinarian who lived like a hobbit?
By Mark Morford, SF Gate Columnist
Friday, August 20, 2004
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How good and refreshing and inspiring is it, in these war-drunk, anti-everything, BushCo-ravaged times, to discover a gem of pure unadulterated free-thinking humanity and funkiness and animal tenderness sitting just outside the teeming city walls?
How life affirming and encouraging is it to stumble, quite randomly, quite unexpectedly, across what is probably the funniest, most caring, most quirky, most unexpected, most hugely popular, intensely local veterinarian in the entire Bay Area even though I can't verify that because I've only been to like, two, but I'm willing to risk saying it anyway?
I am here with an answer: It is very, very good indeed.
This is what happened. The S.O., she has this parrot. A brand-new parrot, actually, a beautiful, young African Grey, recently acquired from a breeder quite by accident and quite by unplanned revelation and by oh-my-God-what-the-hell-are-we-doing impulse purchase (I know, I know) at the San Francisco Bird Mart. But that's, as they say, another column.
So we realized that this bird, this new life addition, this madly wondrous, chirping, curious beast of the Congo, she needed a checkup. The breeder we purchased her from was fine and responsible and caring, but as every book and Web site says, find yourself a good vet ASAP and take the bird in anyway, just to make sure. Check the talons. Take a blood test. Kick the avian tires. That sort of thing. It's just good practice....cont'd
http://sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/g/a/2004/08/20/notes082004.DTL&nl=fix