Tuesday, August 16, 2011

Hush Little Baby......














I stopped at the grocery store tonight to pick up a couple things on my way home from work. When I left the store an elderly man and woman were standing in front of the automatic doors looking at something on the ground. When I exited the store, I saw a little bird twirling around in circles and sqwacking like it was in extreme pain. (almost sounded like me when I herniated my disc).

The man seemed impatient to get in the store and didn't give a fig about the bird. The woman, however, seemed very concerned but didn't know what to do for it.

"Do you know what to do for the poor thing?" she asked me, "should I pick it up?"

I said, "He will probably be ok in a bit. Probably just winded."

I walked to the car and I could feel my mom (who loved birds so much, her casket had them embroidered inside) tell me "Michelle, you go back right now and pick up that bird and hold it for a few minutes!"

So......... I put my bag and purse in the car and walked back to where the lady was still looking at the bird. She had a Kleenex in her hand but she wasn't sure how to pick the thing up. It now looked like it had a broken leg because it couldn't stand up at all.

I have held many a bird that managed to conk itself silly on my mom's windows so I knew how to do it.

I swooped it up in my hands and began to talk very softly to it. The poor thing was absolutely terrified and in pain... and it did NOT want to settle down at all. Still I cooed softly to it, and prayed a little prayer that it could be well enough to fly.

It managed to wriggle out of my grasp and flew about 2 feet and then landed right in front of the automatic doors which were opening... and the door smacked it and then the person coming out almost stepped on the poor thing!

It rolled itself into a corner and calmed down a little bit.

I couldn't reach it because I couldn't bend (herniated disk and all).

I thought about leaving.... but felt prompted again to give it another try.

Just then the poor thing started sqwacking up a storm again.... oh it sounded so pitiful like it was either screaming in pain or screaming for help. It rolled towards me and I gently picked him up again.

The old lady had come out with the store manager who had a box in her hands. The lady wanted them to call the Humane Society, but the manager and I knew that they would do nothing for this poor little bird unless it was a rare bird or exotic or something.

I held the bird a few more minutes, praying for it to be ok, and suddenly I could feel not one, but BOTH little legs kicking at me inside my hands. I told the old lady and the manager that I thought it would be ok.... but that it needed to be let loose where it wasn't so busy.

The manager said she would take it to the back of the store where there wasn't anybody, so I put Arthur (he looked like an Arthur) in the box.

As I walked back to my car, I didn't know if I helped the bird at all, but I knew Mom was happy I had at least tried.

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