It started as an ordinary morning—the kind where the sun spills across the porch like golden syrup and the breeze carries the scent of dew and blooming jasmine. But for Julius, our white-crested umbrella cockatoo, it was anything but ordinary. Today, he was not just a bird on a perch. He was a ruler surveying his vast and noble kingdom.

From the back porch, Julius had the perfect vantage point. With his feathers pristine and his crest slightly raised, he gazed out over the backyard like a general inspecting his troops. The lawn, freshly mowed, glistened under the morning light. Trees swayed like loyal subjects bowing in the breeze. Every leaf, every pebble, every flutter of wings from the robins overhead seemed to acknowledge him. He let out a soft whistle—less a call and more a decree. Somewhere in the neighbor’s yard, a dog barked back. Julius tilted his head, unimpressed but benevolent. That canine clearly didn’t understand the chain of command. A squirrel skittered across the fence, pausing for a moment to lock eyes with the regal bird. Julius fluffed his chest. The squirrel wisely moved along.

This was his domain.

To us, the porch is a nice place for coffee. To Julius, it is the royal balcony. The potted ferns? His royal gardens. The hanging swing chair? His observation tower. And the hummingbird feeder? A diplomatic embassy for visiting dignitaries. Everything within view—from the tallest oak to the tiniest bug—is part of his grand estate. He doesn’t rule with harshness. There’s no screeching today. No flapping declarations of war. Julius rules with quiet confidence. He observes. He considers. He takes in the world like a seasoned king, wise beyond his years, content in the knowledge that he doesn’t have to chase squirrels or argue with robins. His presence alone is enough to keep the peace. But every good monarch needs companionship. Every few minutes, he glances back through the screen door to make sure we’re watching—to make sure his trusted humans are nearby. Because even kings get lonely, and this one likes to share his throne, especially if you’re bringing a peanut or two. So next time you step out onto the porch, don’t be surprised if you feel like you’re entering royal territory. You are. You’re walking into a kingdom of feathers and fluff, where the ruler has sharp eyes, a big heart, and a crown that flares up whenever he’s feeling proud.

Long live Julius—the first of his name, King of the Porch, Guardian of the Backyard, and Bringer of Joy.