Hummingbird

This little bird has captured my Person's attention. It is trying to get some nectar from a flower that hasn't opened up yet.

I know how it feels. I look about like that, only larger and red, when my Person hasn't opened the cupboard where my food is stored, when she hasn't put that food in my dish and when she hasn't given me the high sign that I can start eating.

The little bird was pretty amazing to watch as it went on to find a meal at nearly every kind of flowering plant my Person has been planting since before I arrived on the scene. There is even a special garden she calls the prairie garden and I like that garden a lot. After all, I am a prairie sort of dog from Prairie du Chien. That is mainly where this little bird was hovering and sipping, in the garden I mean, not in Wisconsin, lifting suddenly and swooping out of sight and back again before you could count to three and occasionally sitting down on a little branch, still and crisp and not its usual so-fast-it-is-blurry self.

I sat with my Person and watched the little bird eating until at last it flew away for the evening, and I think we both were thinking how wonderful it might be to fly like that, and while we were busy imagining, the light grew dimmer and the evening grew quieter and all the other birds went to their roosting places for the evening and so did my Person and so did I.