La cité du Bordeaux...où Pauvre Gavotte

The bloody shift key (which looks like a little arrow and not like a shift key at all) keeps sticking on this computer. WHAT A PAIN! But I will try not to "yell".

I got sick qnd tired of lovely Marmande, as honestly, there is nothing really to do there and there were too many sad Gavotte memories. Who is Gavotte, you ask? WELL, he was my sweet little bird baby that I found crying in the middle of the road. Poor little bird. I took him home but he still cried and cried and cried. I tried to watch TV with him but he still cried. I tried feeding him bread and water but he shut his little beak and cried and cried some more. I finally left him in a tree so he could hide and cry and watch the men play bocce ball in the park. I went up to my hotel room and ate my baguette and wiped the little bird fleas (that practically POURED out of my little bird) off my arm. The things we do for love...

An hour later I went down and h was still crying. There were a lot of dogs running near his tree, so I scooped him up and took him back to where I found him, where there was amother bird calling and calling. His maman!! With the help of a shopkeeper's broom (there was quite a crowd at this point) I lifted p'tit Gavotte back in his arbre, and after watching him for a while, I went back to the hotel. I had done the best I could.

Later in the evening I walked by the bird tree and I was so happy. He wasn't crying! He must be happy at....then I saw a little spot on the road under the tree. It was absolutely flat with two yellow legs sticking out a bit from the puddle! My ami Gavotte! Il y avais des larmes, because he had been such a good little ami. Pauvre Gavotte!