OTTUMWA — It’s hard to tell which noises are most often heard in the Montoya household. There’s usually music or TV shows or the laughter of the family. Even when the people are quiet, the bird or sometimes the dog can be heard.

“She doesn’t like the monkey,” laughs Arnoldo Montoya, 43, as his dog growls and barks and sniffs at the four-foot tall stuffed animal. “Dog? Why don’t you like el chango?”

Arnoldo and his wife, Maria Olga, 43, both laugh at the little dog’s antics as it detects some unseen movement or unheard sound — and runs away from the giant monkey.

They are in the living room of their neatly kept Ottumwa home. Both are studying English. They’ve taken classes, have purchased DVDs and ask friends at work to help them learn words.

But around the house, the language of choice is their native Spanish. Consequently, that’s the only language the dog understands.

“Beso! Beso!” shouts Maria, and the dog responds, jumping on the couch to give Mama a beso, a kiss.

Beto, the little parrot, seems to have a mischievous streak that the family enjoys. When he’s being good, he leaves his cage to stand on Maria’s shoulder or to sit with the dog on the living room floor. Sometimes, just for fun, he and the little dog chase each other. The animals rarely seem bored: They get more attention than the TV does.

“He likes your ears,” Maria says to a guest.

The visitor has had his ears nibbled at twice by the little parrot — el perico — and chomped on once.

When Beto gets it in his head to bite Mama, she shrieks with mock pain.

“Ahhhhhh!” she cries out.

“Ahhhhhh!” mimics the little parrot perfectly, to the delight of everyone in the room.

Unfortunately, this can prompt a five-minute mini-parrot attack, as Beto seems to realize how funny it is to nip at people; with enough laughter in the room, he’ll even start echoing that sound.

First, he repeats the scream: “Ahhhhh! Ha ha ha ha ha!”