Birdie

Dear Birdie,

We picked you out from your brothers and sisters on October 23rd of 2004. I was in eighth grade then. You seemed destined to be our girl.

You were smaller than the cats and our neighbor Jeri's maltese, Nash. You were soft and fuzzy and the essence of a puppy. The second day you were at home, Brytten and I played with you in the piles of leaves.

You effortlessly joined our family. You made the three of us, four.

Too many people to count asked us why we didn't name you Lassie. That just wasn't our style- or yours as it turned out. Lassie obviously couldn't follow as the third girl after Sanna and Brytten. But Birdie could.

You loved ice cubes and could bark along to Christmas carols that Mom "sang". We joked that she loved you, her third daughter, more than us. But we were fine with that. You deserved that much love.

When you came home from being spayed I stacked up bed and couch pillows so that you could rest your chin on them and then I did my homework next to you.

You always had to be where we were. If the three of us were in my room you would come and lay down in the middle of my floor and gracefully take up the entire room. You would nudge the bathroom door open and then lick our legs dry after a shower.

After you took a drink from your dish you would come slobber on our jeans or our bare legs.

When you were still a puppy, Brytten and I had races with you around the house as you nipped at our butts and you skirted around the Christmas tree gleefully.

Nearly everyday I would get to school and pluck your long white, wavy hairs off my khakis. I was delighted when I found one in my dorm room. I have no idea how it got there.

When you were still a baby, Brytten put you in a canvas bag and we carted you through the neighborhood and even into Lewis.

One time I was giving you a bath and you skillfully escaped and leapt through the screen door and started exploring the neighborhood.

Mom used to joke that if she ever had a motorcycle she would get you a sidecar to ride in. You would have loved that.

You barked at bicycles and we all spent a lot of time standing outside telling you to "go potty."

You pulled off tutus, glasses and bandanas tied around your head as Brytten sang, 'Matchmaker, Matchmaker.'

You once ate an entire cooked chicken and you were bribed to take a bath by french fries.

You had a joyous personality and we could sense your emotions, which we thought was pretty rare. But you were just that kind of dog.

Birdie
Miss Birdie
Birdie Brown Eyes
Birdie Lynn
Birdie Becht
Birdina
Birdalicious

You were an absolutely wonderful dog. You were beautiful and made our family what it is.

We love you to the moon and back.

And we always will.