Meagan and her friend Samantha, both students, lived together in Denver. On mornings when Samantha had class, Meagan would watch her 2-year-old daughter, Hannah. Also part of the household was Meagan's pet, Willie, a parrot -- a particularly intelligent and chatty breed. He picked up quite a healthy vocabulary ("Silly Willie"was a favorite saying) and became a great mimic  -- of cats, dogs, chickens and humans. One day with Samantha at school, Hannah sat in front of morning cartoons while Meagan cooked Pop-Tarts in the kitchen. When the toaster spat out the food, Meagan placed it at the center of the kitchen table to cool. She glanced at Hannah and, confident the child was fully engaged in the TV, slipped out quickly to use the bathroom. "I was gone maybe 30 seconds,"Meagan recalls."And suddenly, I heard the bird going crazy and shouting."She heard two very distinct words from the parrot's mouth."Mama! Baby! Mama! Baby!"Meagan ran out of the bathroom to find Hannah in the kitchen, holding the partly eaten Pop-Tarts, out of breath, her face and lips a terrifying shade of blue. And Willie was still crying. "Hannah had climbed up on a chair and gotten the Pop-Tarts and she was clearly choking on them,"says Meagan."I seized her and immediately started doing first aid until the piece came flying out."The bird quieted down and Meagan burst into tears, relief washing over her; Hannah was fine, already smiling her big smile. When Meagan told Samantha what happened,"She was so grateful, thanking me for what I did,"Meagan says."But I said, 'Don't thank me! It was Willie who was the hero!'" What happened to Hannah?
The parrot disturbed her. She got herself burned. She fell off the chair. Something was stuck in her throat.