My assistant, Auntie NuNu, has a teensy dog named Ava living with her these days. NuNu, Grandma and Granddad, who live just outside the city, absolutely love the little 17-week-old carnivore.

Ava is awfully cute, but I am not a big fan of hers as she is absolutely ruining the birdwatching in their garden. The garden used to be a suburban bird paradise. There are plenty of trees, many of which produce berries that last throughout winter for birds to eat. There is a fountain to bathe in and to drink from. There are something like 200 birds’ nests in the trees there – which speaks to just how idyllic the garden was.

Was – past tense – because the new resident of the house sees a bird and thinks: lunch.

Ava is a little terror. She is a Scottish Terrier. Does the word terrier come from the word terror? That seems likely to me, but I do not know. I will look it up. I’ll be right back!

Okay, I looked it up and terrier does not mean terror. Le sigh. It’s from the French: chien terrier, which means dog of the earth. To be fair, that is also an appropriate name for the little dog as Ava is a digger. She adores digging holes in the dirt.

But I digress.

Auntie NuNu told me that Ava is being menaced by a large bird of prey. I confess that when she told me about it, I thought turnabout is fair play, but NuNu loves the little beast and is quite worried. I told her I would come over and monitor the situation. I figure I will be able to either put NuNu’s mind at ease or warn her that Ava is indeed in danger.

I’ll let you know what happens in my next post.

XOXO,
Bernice