I am Doodlebug, King of the Olde English Bulldogges. What is that laying in your hand, Lady Human?
Sweetie: It looks like…IT IS! ONE OF OUR PARAKEETS!
Me: NO! No, it’s not! Look! Both of our parakeets are still here! Tall Man found this little parakeet outside on the patio fence. He must have flown in and sat down and…passed away.
MoonCat: I had nothing to do with that.
Me: I know, girl. I guess this little guy escaped from his home, wherever that was. He was lost. And it’s been so cold these last few mornings that he just couldn’t make it and…
Doodlebug: He flew here because it was safe.
Me: But it was too late and we didn’t know about him.
MoonCat: And he perched on our fence.
Sweetie: Why did he come here? He could have gone anywhere.
Me: Maybe…
Sweetie: The Great Creator. He knew.
Me: This is so strange. Nothing like this has ever happened to us before.
Doodlebug: Just like when we all came here. Not an accident.
Me: The Lord Jesus said something very interesting about little birds. He said that the fall of even a tiny sparrow doesn’t happen without the Heavenly Father’s notice.
Sweetie: He should have a name. Everyone should have a name.
Me: All right. I’m going to call him ‘Little Tejas’. It’s the name of our home. Texas. It comes from an old Caddoan word that means ‘friend’.
Sweetie: Just trying new things. Look how well I fit in here.
Me: No, you don’t. We’ve talked about this before. There isn’t enough room for you to squeeze your head between that heavy chair and that table. There just isn’t.
Sweetie: Are you calling me fat?
Me: No, I’m calling you what you are. A big-boned bulldog of the English variety, and you can’t fit in any ole tight space you choose.
Sweetie: Watch me! Mmmm…hmmph!
Me: See what I mean?
Sweetie: But if I try hard enough, I should be able to fit anywhere!
Me: Not if it’s physically impossible. And why would you even want to?
Sweetie: It’s a bulldog thing. I’ll just keep trying.
Bulldoggy 