Under the Direction of Denice W. November 2006
Pie and Her New Friends
Our abode is absolutely the tops - the tops of any bookcase, cabinet or drapery rod in the main living quarters we desire.
This night, being one that was on the chilly side, I flew up to meet some new neighbors on the cabinet top to see how they were finding the recent change in the weather.
Unlike the other yard mates that I am acquainted with at a distance, these ladies were the picture of decorum.
They sat up straight with their heads held high, beaks front faced and not a feather out of place.
I quickly desired to become better acquainted with them and bade myself to come closer for introductions.
"My name is Pie," I said as I introduced myself to them. "I've lived in these parts for nearly 2 years. You girls must be new to the neighborhood. What are your names and where do you come from?"
We passed the evening as fast friends, almost as if we were rocking back and forth on the porch in the summer time with an old friend who knew your every thought with no need to engage in chit chat. The lights eventually grew dim and the snow drifted high at the windows. The warmth of our friendship caused all of our eyes to hang heavy and soon we were finding ourselves awakened by the raucous clatter of my man, Streudel, wondering where his woman was. I made my apologies to my new friends, wished them well and made my way home to snuggle up again on top of the curtain rod with my honey. He takes such good care of me, pointing out all the choicest morsels when he takes me out to eat. New friends are nice, but when my sweetheart beckons I must respond. Tel est amour.