Once in a while, Gertrude the Dove feels obliged to pop up really close and look at me, as if to say, “Okay, buster, where are today’s crumbs? “
She can be so relentless, giving me the eye and projecting mental birdie thoughts into my pea-sized brain.
It works, y’know. I get up, she hops to the ground, I go in the house and get her something, toss it on the ground, and she gobbles ‘em up so fast you’d think she never had a meal in her life.
Feels good … doing a good deed, y’see.
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