The Parrot

Meyer, a lonely widower, was walking home along Delancy Street one day
wishing something wonderful would happen in his life when he passed a pet
store and heard a squawking voice shouting out in Yiddish:
"Quawwwwk.... vus macht du.... yeah, du... outside, standing like a
putze!....eh?"

Meyer rubbed his eyes and ears.  Couldn't believe it.  The proprietor
sprang out of the door and grabbed Meyer by the sleeves.
"Come in here, fella, and check out this parrot..."

Meyer stood in front of an African Grey that cocked his head and said "Vus?
Kenst reddin Yiddish?"

Meyer turned excitedly to the store owner.  "He speaks Yiddish? Vuh den?
Chinese maybe?"

In a matter of moments, Meyer had placed five hundred down on the counter
and carried the parrot in his cage away with him.  All the night he talked
with the parrot in Yiddish.  He told the parrot about his father's
adventures coming to America.  About how beautiful mother was when she was
a young bride.  About his family.  About his years working in the garment
center.  About Florida.  The parrot listened and commented.  They shared
walnuts.  The parrot told of living in the pet store, how he hated the
weekends.  They both went to sleep.

Next morning, Meyer began to put on his teffilin, all the while saying his
prayers.  The parrot demanded to know what he was doing, and when Meyer
explained, the parrot wanted some, too.  Meyer went out and hand made a
miniature set of tefillin for the parrot.  The parrot wanted to learn to
daven and learned every prayer.  He wanted to learn to read Hebrew so
Meyer spent weeks and months, sitting and teaching the parrot, teaching
him Torah.  In time, Meyer came to love and count on the parrot as a
friend and a Jew.  He had been saved.

On Rosh Hashana, Meyer rose and got dressed and was about to leave when
the parrot demanded to go with him.  Meyer explained that the Shul was not
a place for a bird, but the parrot made a terrific argument and was
carried to Shul on Meyer's shoulder.  Needless to say, they made quite a
spectacle, and Meyer was questioned by everyone, including the Rabbi and
Cantor.  They refused to allow a bird into the building on the High Holy
Days but Meyer convinced them to let him in this one time, swearing the
parrot could daven.

Wagers were made with Meyer.  Thousands of dollars were bet (even odds)
that the parrot could NOT daven, could not speak Hebrew or Yiddish, etc.
All eyes were on the African Grey during services.  The parrot perched on
Meyer's shoulder as one prayer and song after another passed.  Meyer heard
not a peep from the bird.  He began to become annoyed, slapping his
shoulder and mumbling under his breath, "Daven!"

Nothing.

"Daven... parrot, you can daven, so daven... come on, everybody's looking
at you!"  Nothing.

After Rosh Hashana services were concluded, Meyer found that he owed his
Shul buddies and the Rabbi over four thousand dollars.  He marched home,
pissed off, saying nothing.  Finally several blocks from the temple the
bird began to sing an old Yiddish song and was happy as a lark.  Meyer
stopped and looked at him.  "You miserable bird, you cost me over four
thousand dollars.  Why?  After I made you tefillin and taught you morning
prayers and taught you to read Hebrew and the Torah.  And after you begged
me to bring you to Shul on Rosh Hashana. Why?  Why did you do this to me?"

"Don't be a jerk," the parrot replied.  "Think of the odds on Yom Kippur!"

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