Oops, guess Tattoo was looking kinda scruffy that day. He did get a bath that very day, as I recall, as did my other umbrella, Dusty Bird, and Grok, my blue and gold macaw. Dusty took the opportunity to make it a TRULY memorable Thanksgiving (which Anton and I celebrated together with a couple of bottles of Veuve Clicquot, triple creme cheeses and killer delicious spanish almonds in 2002) by biting through my lip. Ouch. On another note, re feathers - Tattoo plucks himself a little amd chews on his clipped wing feathers the minute they grow long (visible in the picture), but if you think he looks bad in his unwashed state, you should see my poor neurotic umbrella Dusty Bird, who, alas, is an inveterate feather picker. I adopted him from his original owner, for whom he had plucked himself bare beneath the neck because no one but her liked him. He has more feathers now, but is incapable of stopping the feather picking. He totally refuses to embrace the concept of tail and wing feathers. His original owner made him go through every medical test under the sun because of this bad habit, and he is healthy as a horse, just not so healthy between one teeny ear and the other. He's neurotic, but I love him anyway. Love seeing everyone's jungle chickens!