He was a smart little thing. I taught him to say "Pretty Bird" on purpose and then he was off from there. He learned to say a bunch of things. When I pick my parrots up, I don't ask them to "step up" but rather I always find myself saying "come here" - just happens, not a conscious choice, lol - and so he learned to say it. He would be on his cage and if he wanted me to come get him he would shout "Hey, come here!" at me.
He was the sweetest bird, too. Everybody loved him and he loved everyone too. Never met you before? No problem, he would like you to give him scritches, please. He would greet people who walked in the room by flying to land on their heads, then he'd peer down over your forehead to talk to you. My mom didn't like him on her hair, so she actually got a special hat she could wear just so he could land on her and talk to her.
I lost him to illness when he was just two years old. He got really sick, and I rushed him to the vet. This was before I had chickens and kept a stock of medicine on hand. Nowadays I would have dosed him with Baytril to get some meds working on him and then got him to the vet ASAP (where they probably would have just prescribed Baytril). But then, I had no medicine, and they left me sitting with him in the waiting room of the emergency vet for hours before finally putting me in a room, where I took him out of the carrier and let him sit on my chest. We then sat there for another further hour before he died, right there on my chest at the vet.