Free Birdie For Now by Jean Little

Birdie.”
    He turned his back and marched out the door. After a moment, to his amazed delight, he heard his mother stumbling after him.

Homecoming

    The kids and Sally Croft had gone, but the door swung open under Dickon’s eager hand.
    â€œBirdie, wait …” his mother called, her voice breathless. He pretended not to hear. Leslie glanced up from cleaning up cookie crumbs and spills of juice. Her eyes widened at Dickon and then widened even more as his mother came in.
    â€œDickon, did you forget something?” she said.
    â€œThis is my mother,” he burst out, ignoring the question. “My real name is Dickon Fielding. Jody got it wrong by mistake and I never told her. Mum’s name is Julie Fielding. We’ve come to see Birdie.”
    â€œYou mean …”
    â€œI want Mum to meet her. She has to understand why we have to take her home.”
    He thought it best to hide his doubts. Leslie hesitated, staring at his mother as though she did not believe such a woebegone-looking woman would be a good person to adopt a dog. She hesitated.
    â€œPlease, Leslie,” Dickon begged. “Let me show her.”
    â€œAll right, Dickon,” she said then. “This way, Mrs. Fielding.”
    She led them back to the room where the dogs were kept. Julie Fielding got as far as the door and froze. But her son did not see her. He un-latched Birdie’s cage and the little dogcame to him, putting her tiny paws up around his neck. He scooped her into his arms and held her close.
    â€œIsn’t she beautiful, Mum?” he said, stroking the small dog lovingly. “Isn’t she perfect?”
    Julie Fielding was amazed at how small and dainty Dickon’s dog was. Her ears seemed to be sending signals to her boy’s mother. Little flips of greeting that almost made Julie smile in spite of herself.
    â€œI thought she was a stray,” she said. “She looks like a rare breed.”
    â€œShe is,” Leslie Hawkin said. “Papillons are getting better known, though. They go way back in history. Marie Antoinette had one.”
    Something in Julie Fielding’s expression made hope stir in Dickon’s heart. The decision wasn’t made yet, though. Leslie had questions to ask. So did Dickon’s mother.
    â€œIs the dog housebroken?”
    â€œYes,” Leslie said firmly. “Birdie is beautifully behaved or she will be when she settles. Often dogs make mistakesjust at first in a new home because they don’t know what is expected of them. They get tense. When she first arrived, she leaked when anyone looked at her, but she’s so much happier now. Dickon has convinced her that the world is a friendly place.”
    She smiled at Dickon. He tried to smile back, but his lips felt wooden. He was too nervous to pretend to be calm. His eyes darted from one face to the other and back again. Who was this Marie?
    â€œBirdie was badly abused by her previous owners,” Leslie added. “At first, she was frightened of everyone. But your son has worked wonders with her. You should be proud of him.”
    Even though she was saying good things, Dickon wished she wouldn’t keep on and on. He almost interrupted to tell them to hurry up. Then he saw how much calmer his mother was growing as she listened to the story of how he and Birdie had come together. He clamped his lips shut. As the minutes crawled past, the set look left her face.
    He wanted to hug her. The next instant, he wanted to clap his hand over her mouth.
    â€œMy Dickon is a special needs child,” she blurted out. He braced himself.
    His mother went on, “He takes medication daily and that helps, but he has trouble concentrating …”
    â€œADHD? My brother Jeremy has the same trouble,” Leslie said matter-of-factly, startling them both. “Dickon put me in mind of Jeremy from the start. He’s going to a community college now, with special help, of course. Your son