"You be good. I love you," were Alex's final words to his owner, research scientist Irene Pepperberg, before his premature death at age thirty-one on September 6, 2007. An African Grey parrot, Alex had a brain the size of a shelled walnut, yet he could add, sound out words, understand concepts like bigger, smaller, more, fewer, and none, and he disproved the widely accepted idea that birds possess no potential for language or anything remotely comparable to human intelligence. Alex & Me is the remarkable true account of an amazing, irascible parrot and his best friend who stayed together through thick and thin for thirty years--the astonishing, moving, and unforgettable story of a landmark scientific achievement and a beautiful relationship.

Charlie Parker is an African Gray Parrot. He entered the life of Debby and Michael Smith three decades ago when, at the insistence of their young son, Eli, they brought him home from a downtown Manhattan bird shop. He has been an integral, and voluble, member of the family ever since. Charlie's vocabulary is astonishingly diverse and colorful. He can be demanding, squawking imperiously "Clean my cage" or "Want some water." He can be brutally direct, warning an aggressive business associate who had been yelling at Debby "I'm going to kick your ass, you sonofabitch." He can be mischievous, making meowing noises to a neighbor's confused dog in the elevator. Charlie is a survivor. He ended up recovering on an IV after the collapse of the World Trade Center filled the Smiths' apartment with toxic dust. He is often an entertainer, with a songbook that extends across "Home on the Range" to "The Yellow Rose of Texas." And most of the time he is affectionate, often hanging upside down against the side of his cage and demanding to be tickled. In encountering Charlie's tales in this concise and charming book, we come to realize that parrots are intelligent and loving creatures, to an extent that, as the renowned avian scientist Professor Irene Pepperberg points out in her introduction, they cannot meaningfully be owned by humans but only enjoyed as companions.

On September 6, 2007, an African Grey parrot named Alex died prematurely at age thirty-one. His last words to his owner, Irene Pepperberg, were "You be good. I love you."

What would normally be a quiet, very private event was, in Alex's case, headline news. Over the thirty years they had worked together, Alex and Irene had become famous--two pioneers who opened an unprecedented window into the hidden yet vast world of animal minds. Alex's brain was the size of a shelled walnut, and when Irene and Alex first met, birds were not believed to possess any potential for language, consciousness, or anything remotely comparable to human intelligence. Yet, over the years, Alex proved many things. He could add. He could sound out words. He understood concepts like bigger, smaller, more, fewer, and none. He was capable of thought and intention. Together, Alex and Irene uncovered a startling reality: We live in a world populated by thinking, conscious creatures.

The fame that resulted was extraordinary. Yet there was a side to their relationship that never made the papers. They were emotionally connected to one another. They shared a deep bond far beyond science. Alex missed Irene when she was away. He was jealous when she paid attention to other parrots, or even people. He liked to show her who was boss. He loved to dance. He sometimes became bored by the repetition of his tests, and played jokes on her. Sometimes they sniped at each other. Yet nearly every day, they each said, "I love you."

Alex and Irene stayed together through thick and thin--despite sneers from experts, extraordinary financial sacrifices, and a nomadic existence from one univer-sity to another. The story of their thirty-year adventure is equally a landmark of scientific achievement and of an unforgettable human-animal bond.