The Moulin Rouge

Leon is the parrot who lives in our building. He speaks French, he makes dog noises, he does the Moulin Rouge.



The Moulin Rouge is where he climbs up on to the top bars of the cage, holds on with his claws (paws?), throws his head back and swings his red tail feathers round and round in a circle. Just like a red windmill.



This afternoon, Papi (in the white hat), whose sole responsibility it is to look after the parrot, invited some kids in to play with Leon.



It's not the same as being able to go down the street and hang out with Now, but it is some sort of community. A parrot, a man who claims to be a hundred years old, and me.