I wouldn't mind being interviewed by KVML or KKBN. I couldn't do it live because I know I can't talk about it without bawling. (Yet I can't cry when I need to at home.)
I have an extensive history with parrots. I recently found an old photo album with lots of pictures of my baby greys, Senegals, Gabby, etc. There were kind notes and photos from folks who adopted them, as well as results from DNA-sexing. There was a very old article from the Union Democrat about a yellow-crowned Amazon who went missing and was recovered. There are sixteen classified ads from the local paper from folks who lost their fids. That's a lot for such a small town. It was even smaller back in the early nineties when I saved those clippings.
Back then I believed whole-heartedly in clipping. I may have been right.
Then again, Kizzy seemed so happy. I used to gently toss her into the air to give her some momentum. She could hang onto my fingers and not fly if she wanted, which was the case 2/3rds of the time. If she was in the mood to be a "big eagle" and go "Whee-e-e-e-e-e-e-e!" she'd tear around the kitchen and living room, play-growling ferociously and occasionally saying, "Whee!" She got a kick out of dive-bombing the tops of our heads. You could feel her belly and wings as she went over. I laughed every single day at her antics.
My mother is convinced taking Kizzy's flight away would have been wrong for her. Maybe she's right. I don't know anymore.
In hindsight, I see some things I did wrong:
1) I was a nervous wreck. I worried about Kizzy crashing into windows. I worried about Kizzy getting into something toxic. She was so fast! I worried about her getting outside. I worried so much it probably interfered with my actual ability to keep her safe. She hated the cage, so I was working on plans for a "safe area" where she could climb and chew and fly. It would have been larger than her cage and perhaps more acceptable to her. But I lost her before I could finalize those plans.
2) Kizzy resisted going into the cage. I finally got her to the point where she would spend time in there, but it was obvious she didn't care for it. She never went in by herself and she certainly didn't consider it her home. She hated it so much she had me trained to leave her out.
3) She had shown zero interest in the door until the last week she was with us. By then, she'd figured out that's where Mom came from. If she heard Mom, she would fly to the vicinity of the door and then back to me. We were both so stupid for not insisting she spend time in her cage when it was unsafe for her to be out. I should have insisted on more cage time for my nerves and her safety, but I wanted her to be as free and happy as possible. She loved to zip from play area to play area, talking, play-growling, pecking the top of my bookcase and acting like a maniac.
When she flew out the door, my mother was basically staying with me because my chronic health issues had flared up. Both of us were exhausted and not thinking clearly.
I decided at the last minute to let her fledge. Apparently, I wasn't thoroughly prepared. Maybe I didn't / don't know enough about keeping flighted birds.
My mind has entered the clipped vs. non-clipped debate with itself. On one hand, I think flighted parrots are happier than non-flighted parrots; on the other, it can be nerve-wracking trying to keep a flighted parrot safe. If I can't keep a flighted parrot safe, I shouldn't keep a flighted parrot at all. And I'm not sure I want to clip. After watching Kizzy's confidence and sheer joy, I don't think I could bear to clip. If there's no answer to this conundrum, perhaps my days of parrot companionship are over. I'm not sure
I could handle that. Even though parrots sometimes bite, I trust them more than people. I didn't used to be this way, but a series of unfortunate incidents caused me to completely lose all faith in humanity. There's not a single person I trust completely. Without Kizzy, I'm desperately lonely.
I don't want either of you to have an accident. The odds of spying Kizzy, even if she's still out there, are infinitesimally small. 
