10/30/2025
I’m moving soon, and my heart feels heavy. For the past three years, I’ve shared my life with a stray I call Big Guy — others know him as Birdie because he loves catching birds. He’s not technically mine, but he’s been a constant companion. He was here long before I moved in, and neighbors say he’s been around this apartment complex for over eight years.
No one could touch him before… until me. Somehow, we built a bond. Now he’s like family. He naps on my patio furniture, walks with me and my dogs, and comes running to greet me at the car no matter how far he is. Storms, fireworks, lawnmowers — he braves them all to come home.
Every day he steps inside for naps, snacks, playtime, and well-earned head scratches. But now, as I buy my first house, I’m torn. Part of me wants to bring him to keep him safe. Another part says this is his home. He made it his own long before I arrived. Maybe I was only ever meant to be his friend while I was here.