This is Max at 11:10 am.
It's been about three weeks since we acquired this bird and Frodo has been a concern as he apparently has a strong prey drive. His good nature stops him before he actually is a threat but I keep a very close eye on him. Max however: Mean. Old. Partially blind. Partially deaf. Totally senile. Mean Mad Max has been happily disinterested in Gandalf. Until yesterday. That was the day when he experienced a flash of clarity and has been obsessively stalking The Beak ever since.
This is Max at 11:55 am. I wanted to wait him out but I was afraid he'd collapse so I moved him. I doubt he remembered what he was there for. A good guess since I found him standing behind a chair staring at a wall for I don't know how long. #olddogpasstimes
This is now a thing. We find Max attentively poised staring at nothing all around the house. Not exactly a very effective (or is that affective) stalker.
We did have a close call when Gandalf suddenly took flight in front of Max and he surprised us with youthful quick reflexes, pouncing upon the bird. My shrill screaming and quick action nearly gave John a heart attack but saved The Beak. He now has one tail feather that appears to be permanently askew but he rallied well and doesn't seem to have any emotional scars since he's still fearless around the dogs. We've added lots of child gates to our list of parrotphanalia.
Just in case you thought I was exaggerating. There's his funky tail feather.