One Saturday morning I sat on our deck, drinking my morning coffee and listening the the city sounds. For days I had heard a dove that sounded like it couldn't get its vocal lessons right. I never could see this bird, however, I was sure it was a dove. I envisioned all the little doves lined up for their voice lessons and one couldn't get the coo just right.

I had been sitting on the deck about an hour when I heard this unusual coo. Looking up, directly in front of me, I saw a beautiful white dove. We never had white doves in this part of the state, only gray mourning doves. This lovely bird was snow white with a black band or collar around its neck that looked like the Lord had taken a paint brush of black and circled its neck. It sat quietly looking at me and I couldn't move. I didn't even want to blink for fear it would flutter away. Finally, I slowly got up and moved away toward the porch door. The bird fluttered through the branches of the tree almost parallel to my movements and seemed to stare deep into my eyes. I could only stand motionless, almost afraid to breath, in complete awe and being mesmerized by this lovely bird. I spent the entire day on the deck and when I moved I did so slowly and quietly so as not to startle or frighten this bird. I'm sure it must have escaped from an aviary, however, I will never know that for certain.

I was a working woman so was away from 6:30 am until 4:00 pm each weekday. Every weekday afternoon during the entire summer this lovely dove would flutter into the tree, next to the deck, as soon as I arrived home from work. Each weekend, the dove would stay around my yard the entire day, as I worked in the flower beds, mowed and edged.

I gave him the name of Breezy because of his soft and gentle fluttering. He would allow me to walk up to within about two feet and then he would hop back a little. I never pushed to get closer as he seemed to be very happy just to be near. There was almost a bonding taking place. I would look for him and he wouldn't be visible then I would look around and he was suddenly there. Toward fall I worried if he would know to fly south as so many of the birds had started their migration and Breezy lingered.

One October Saturday Breezy fluttered down to the fence post near me, then up to the roof edge, then back down to the fence post, he seemed uneasy. He was back and forth for almost an hour, he flew to the feeder and lingered there for such a long time. Then up to the roof edge he fluttered, looking down at me, flew over the house much like a low flying aviator, and with more strength and speed then I had ever witnessed from Breezy before, he headed southwest. I never saw Breezy again, and I never hear the coo of a turtle dove that it doesn't bring a tear to my eye. I have told my family that when I pass away I want to have a dove etched on my headstone.

Every pet owner will want to share them with their animal-loving
friends and relatives.