We all know Julius is a clever bird. A little too clever sometimes.

Today’s offense? Sneaking off to chew the corner of a very important piece of mail… again. When caught mid-munch, he froze like a statue—beak still on the envelope, eyes wide, playing innocent like he was just inspecting the paper for safety purposes.

“Julius…”

Instant pout mode.

His crest lowers, his feathers deflate, and he slinks to the back of his perch like he’s just been accused of a crime he definitely committed but refuses to acknowledge. He peeks out from behind his wing, then turns his back to us in full dramatic protest.

No squawking. No singing. Just the quiet, heavy silence of bird guilt.

He won’t make eye contact for a good ten minutes. Then, slowly, he starts inching his way back with those “are we good?” eyes. One whistle. One head tilt. And just like that, he’s back in the circle of trust.

He may be guilty, but he’s also adorable… and he knows it.