When he finished eating, he said "Cork," asking for the cork that was used to clean his bill. When he got tired of sitting on a researcher's shoulder, he squawked "Wanna go to the gym," meaning he wanted to retreat to his exercise stand.
His word for apple was "banerry," a combination of banana, which has a similar taste, and cherry, a fruit he knew.
Alex had the intelligence of a 5-year-old and the communication skills of a 2-year-old, Pepperberg said, and he sometimes got balky or threw tantrums like a small child would.
Alex often had to repeat an experiment 60 or 70 times so that the results could meet the standards of scientific proof.
Sometimes, Alex got bored.
"He would take his beak and knock everything on the floor," Pepperberg said. "He would have said 'Enough already' if he could have."
At other times, Alex would correct the other African grey parrots Pepperberg worked with in her lab, telling them to "talk better."
Alex's death was unexpected. The birds can live 60 or more years in captivity.
Pepperberg said Alex seemed fine Thursday evening, the last time she saw him. They went through their usual good-night routine. She told the bird she loved him and would see him the next day.
Alex answered, "You'll be in tomorrow."
Pepperberg said she had received requests from museums for Alex's remains, but she had been too sad about the parrot's death to make a decision.
"He was my closest colleague," she said.
Alex hadn't reached the limit of his cognitive potential, Pepperberg said. Before he died, he was working on learning the numbers seven and eight, and sorting out optical illusions.
Pepperberg, reached at her Harvard lab Tuesday, said the research would continue with her two younger African greys, but they were farther behind Alex.
denise.gellene@latimes.com
