Fala and Cornwallis have never gotten along very well. They see the world in different ways; their core values the same but the process to reach them is vastly different.
As such, even though Cornwallis usually handles passing out the various jobs and important missions to the Presidential Pets, the slender dog is no where to be seen. Instead, a small gray and black bird with a white chest sits upon a perch at the center of the Room.
The bird, like every Presidential Pet, has a name.
His name is Dick, and he belongs to Thomas Jefferson.
During his time in the White House Jefferson wrote observations on the types of birds that he spotted in the area. In a letter to a friend he wrote, “I sincerely congratulate you on the arrival of the mockingbird. Teach all the children to venerate it as a superior being which will haunt them if any harm is done to itself or its eggs.”
Despite the fact that Dick isn’t seen very often, he’s actually a very respected animal among the Presidential Pets.
Thomas Jefferson kept Dick’s cage in a special area in his study, among plants on a windowsill. Jefferson often left Dick’s cage open and allowed him free range of the room. Whenever he had free time, Jefferson and Dick were always side by side.
Dick would perch on Jefferson’s couch and sing him to sleep after following him one by one up the stairs. Thomas Jefferson even put food between his lips and the mockingbird would swoop down and take it from him. Dick and Jefferson did duets together. The two have a very close bond, the likes of which every Presidential Pet strives to achieve with their respective president.
More than that, though, is the fact that Dick has managed to complete many a job within the ranks of the Presidential Pets.
Still, Fala isn’t particularly enthused to see the mockingbird, if only because he doesn’t really feel like working.
“Fala,” says Dick, his voice soft and sweet. The little mockingbird ruffles his feathers. “I’m so glad to see that you came! I need to speak to you about something that’s very, very important.”
Fala huffs. The little Scotty dog’s tail droops down between his hind legs. “Aye, figured that you did. Tell me it won’t take too long, Dicky-boy?”
“I can’t say how long it will take,” answers Dick. “All I can say is that it’s of the utmost importance.”
Katelynn E Koontz – Author