Problems Of Sexual Dimorphism

Was it a parrot? asks Terence.

Yes, a Glossy Black Cockatoo is a parrot, says Lisa. I'm sorry you missed it. It had lovely red tail bands.

Red tail bands! That's my dream parrot, says Terence.

Really? says Irene. Well then,  while we're waiting for your irresponsible companions, I'll take you bird spotting.

Latham's Conservation Park is right next to Stokes Bay, says Lisa.

I know, says Irene. I'm not a tourist.

She's a spy, says Terence, under his breath, (so no one will hear him, but he will have said it).

They're sexually dimorphic, says Lisa. I suppose you knew that too.

Yes, says Irene. I knew that. And where's my skinny latte?

Coming, says Lisa.

She goes behind the counter to the coffee machine.

Terence stomps outside to look for Black Glossy Cockatoos while he's waiting.

He looks up into the sky.

A female Black Glossy Cockatoo soars overhead majestically.

But female Black Glossy Cockatoos are dark brownish with yellow spotting.

So, it's not the best name then.

And Terence doesn't know that he's seen one.

Irene finally finishes her skinny latte and comes out of the café.

We'll take Sweezus's bike, says Irene. That way they'll have to wait for us if they get back early.

Woo hoo! says Terence. I'm not allowed on his bike.

Well, you are now, says Irene. Sit on the back and hang on to my waist. No! Not my bottom!

I have to, says Terence.

Turn your head then, says Irene. Okay, off we go.

They are on their way to Latham's Conservation Park to do some bird spotting.

They enter the park.

There's one! says Irene. Look! In that Drooping She-oak!

Let me off! says Terence.

Irene is only too glad to.

Terence tiptoes over to the Drooping She-oak. Crackle, crackle....

The Glossy Black Cockatoo is holding a cone in one foot and shredding it with its powerful beak, to get at the seeds with its tongue.

He doesn't see Terence until:

Hello parrot, says Terence. I'm lost. I need some directions.

Pt-up! says the parrot.

UP? says Terence.

Pt-up! says the parrot.

Are you just spitting? asks Terence. Or talking?

Pt-ork! spits the parrot. Pt-up! That's better. Now what is it?

I said I was lost, says Terence. But I'm not really.

Nor am I, says the Black Glossy Cockatoo. This is my home. It's named after me. I'm a Calyptorhyncus lathami.

It's annoying when someone starts boasting.

I live in a palace, says Terence. It's named after me. The Terence.

The Glossy Black Cockatoo is impressed. He doesn't know there is no such palace.

Would you like to be my new parrot? asks Terence. There's a vacancy.

No thanks, says the Glossy Black Cockatoo.

Spitting out the last Allocasuarina verticillata seed, he flutters upwards.

He ought to be getting home to his missus.

If only he could remember what she looks like....