THE STORY OF TRUDY AND HERSCHEL - A TALE OF LOVE

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"Why are you walking away from me like that?" She asked with a little huff in her voice.  It did not seem quite right that she had broken her no-kissing-on-the-fifteenth-season rule only to be snubbed that way.

He hardly looked at her, though, as he turned his early-summer fully-feathered back to her and moved away on the sidewalk.  Even the thought of waiting until the little kid got right up to him and then making that loud cooing noise and flapping wildly right in front of his face and scaring him into probably needing a clean diaper did not make Herschel happy.  He just kept bobbing his head and softly, mournfully cooing his love song.

Being a dove is no piece of cake.  There are all these mating rituals to consider.  Herschel cannot even imagine that any other species has it as tough as he does when it comes to wanting to get in some dovette's pants.  The only thing he knows to do, after fifteen years of courting this same dovette is try to gain her sympathy by bobbing and cooing, bobbing and cooing, and when he takes a moment to peek over his shoulder and turn a bright red eye on his girl to see how she is responding, he becomes even more despondent because not only does she not seem to care, but she seems to have found a delicacy that she appears to have no intention of sharing with her intended.  

Herschel waddles back over to her and suddenly pecks his beak against hers, and they blush.  But the honeymoon does not last for long when he asks her, "Your beak tastes particularly good today, may I ask what that was you were eating?"

The little female dove, as demurely as possibly in dove-speak says, "That was candy."  

"Oh," replied Herschel.  "I have never tasted anything quite as good as that!"

Finally, the rejected male dove, the very good-looking rejected male...no, wait, if he must say so himself, the very, VERY handsome, brave and good-looking male dove again turns his back and begins to waddle away, finally realizing that this is his last season and he has failed to win her over.  Herschel gets off a really good kid-scare and coos and chuckles to himself all the way down the sidewalk when he hears, "Herschel?"  

Bobbing and cooing, wondering if he should play it cool or rush to her side, Herschel turns and says, "Yes, Trudy?"  

Trudy bobs and coos her way toward him with something in her beak, something red and sticky-looking, something foreign, and when she reaches him she cranes her neck out to him and makes her offering.  Herschel taps Trudy's beak with his, and she pushes a piece of sugary, delicious candy into his beak, under his tongue, then steps back and shyly coos and bobs until Herschel puts out his handsome feathered wing and puts it over Trudy's sleek, slender shoulders, and off they go together, bobbing and cooing, to make a nest in the mansion willow tree across the street and raise their baby bobbers together.  

A piece of candy can solidify friendships when shared.  The bees know it, and even the birds know it.  Hopefully humans know it still, too.