The things you see at the bird feeder

 I’m looking at a white-wing dove with a big, puffy down feather stuck on its claw.

The Enormous Dog That Lives At My House can give himself a good scratch. He closes his eyes with pleasure and scratches with enough enthusiasm to shake the house. He’s better at scratching than the white-wing, but the dove was better than I thought any bird could be.

Real enthusiasm, or so it appeared to me.