He tried just pouring it into my mouth. What a mess it made! It ran over my beak, down my breast and got my feathers sticky. When I cleaned up by emptying my water bowl on them, he complained I got everything soaked. When he resisted my attempts to gently guide the spoon with my beak, the spoon ended up bent in half. Guess I don’t know my own strength. Eventually, he caught on that I could hold the spoon in my beak and then tip my head back to control the flow. Mmmmm. Nice warm chicken broth. Honest dad, I didn’t bite down on the spoon - can’t imagine how that dimple got into it even if it does conform to the point of my beak.