I'm glad I didn't have Alexa back in the day. My house would have been a disaster:
For many years I owned a male African Grey named Dolly. (Yes, who knew when he was a baby that he was a boy - when I got him a mate, I named her Madison. It worked out well for them.
) Dolly would call our Australian Shepard, Sky, when the dog was excessively barking and generally being out of control. "Sky! Sky! <dog whistle sounds> Come! Come here, boy!" The dog would come to Dolly's cage, wagging his rear end (no tail) vigorously. Dolly would get down beak-to-wet-nose with the dog, and firmly command, "Be quiet! Shut up! Go lay down!" And the dog did it. Smart bird, obedient but not-very-smart dog.
Dolly was an amazing bird, spoke many words and phrases in various people's voice, made a million sounds, carried on one-sided phone calls, (complete with the ringing of the phone before the speaking started, and a cheerful "Bye bye now!" before an audible <CLICK> sound at the end), and he definitely could think for himself.
One of his best vocal tricks was when a stranger would stand in front of his cage, trying to get him to speak. He never spoke in front of strangers unless he wanted to - no amount of encouragement ever changed that. So the person would do all the usual lame stuff people do and say in front of a parrot: Things like "Polly wanna cracker?" and wolf whistles, and such - and Dolly didn't make a sound. Finally, when the frustrated person was bored, and inevitably said the right phrase, "What's the matter - can't you talk?" Dolly would climb on his cage bars to the front of the cage, until he was as close to the person as he could get. He'd dilate and contract his near eye very specifically at the person to get them into very hard focus. Then he'd lean down at a conspiratorial angle, and very clearly and loudly ask, "Of course I can talk. Can you fly?" Then as the person reacted, as they always did, Dolly would quietly laugh, a low, wicked chuckle.
Amazing bird.
Dave