She went with me. We got wood. Enough to build a birdhouse large enough for a beagle.
I said beagle, not eagle, although I admit that it's close. We didn't rein in our enthusiastic compassion for pudgy birds until we'd reached a point nearing the ridiculous. A family of homeless geese has been gathering to monitor our progress. And I suspect more than a few people will pass by and wonder why we have a crooked doghouse on a pole in our yard.
When it came time to decide what size hole to cut in our birdhouse, I went online to look for information. I found a chart listing hole dimensions and house hanging heights for a large variety of birds.
Doves weren't on the list.
Turns out they prefer open-ended nesting shelves.
I shared the news with Celeste.
"That's probably just because the holes are never big enough," she said as she lined up a roll of masking tape on the birdhouse and traced the inside circle to serve as the door.
I felt a bit silly, but I obliged. Our birdhouse soon had a big, crooked opening that coordinated well with our waggly windows.
After it was fully assembled, although not yet painted, we stepped back to admire our structure. A birdhouse that was, quite obviously, constructed by loons.
"We did a good thing," my girl said proudly.
"We sure did," I said.