It was cold, early December, and Tilly was wearing her pink sweater — courtesy of Phoebe, of course. And partly Teddy, too. He thought she looked very cute and sweet in it.
"Meryl Streep? You hear that, Tilly? They're comparing you to Meryl Streep."
Teddy smiled at Birdy, then immediately looked at Mr. Noodle. "And you. Sheriff Noodle. So nice to finally meet you." Teddy extended a hand for Mr. Noodle to smell.
"Well. She's better than Meryl Streep," Birdy affirms, cooing at Tilly, smiling delightedly at the little sweater. "Like. Better dressed, too. I would say. It looks designer."
It makes her heart thump, seeing Teddy, so tall, big, extend his hand so gently to the elderly terrier. Mr. Noodle extends his neck curiously. Sniffs the hand with a little sneeze. "This is Teddy. You know him. He's. Well. We've had several ... conversations about him." The wiry little tail wags.













