About a week ago while on my morning walk, I went past JP Morgan, so nicknamed because of the roseaeous growth on his nose and head, and his mate, not thinking anything of it. Two days ago, they both approached me on the walking path like I had something they wanted. When they realized I didn't have a slice of bread, they sauntered on their way.
Yesterday, I came bearing the heal of the loaf, which we never eat anyway. Well, JP started panting, and wagging his tail feathers like a dog. I closed my eyes, and he sounded like our Maltese, Snowball (see blog post one). I wish I could describe the scene better, or wish you all could be there to see it.
After the slice was finished, JP and his mate (who expanded only the energy needed to pluck the bread) waddled off in search of another soft hearted walker.
The other observation I had about JP was, in this political climate, he must be a Socialist, looking for handouts the way he does.