Everyone who knows me knows this about me: I love animals. Bryan was the first to notice how my hands would go to my mouth every time I saw something small and fuzzy. April permitted me to feed the stray cat at our door. Jocilyn told me to ask for a kitten instead of a ring when I get engaged. I yelled at an ex-roommate's fiance who kicked a cat. I watch where I walk in case worms or snails might be under my feet. I cried when my dog died. And today I fell in love with a pigeon.
When I got to work he was just lying there on his side under a bush with his feathers askew breathing slowly and barely moving. My heart hurt and I wanted so badly to pick him up and do what I could to make him comfortable before his life expired. As I could not leave work duties to do so I instead offered a prayer in my head. Dear Father, Creator of beast and bird, take him to you swiftly so he is not in pain. I walked past him a couple more times and cried when his head rocked to the side as if he were looking to see who would come to his aid. I just didn't know what to do!
Finally as I left for lunch I decided to call my dad, bird expert, animal lover, a softy to the core. But as I got to the bush under which he had lain I saw nothing but dirt. I cried again, this time in mourning, and tried to push the thought of his body being thrown unceremoniously away far from my mind. May he rest in peace, I thought, naming the pigeon Bert in my head. May Bert rest in peace.
As I turned the corner an exclamation of surprise burst from my lips. There was Bert limping determinedly across the sidewalk. His legs and wings looked bent, and his head was held in such a way that implied he had very little strength or focus left to spare for it. But he was up. Bert is a fighter. I may have said, "I'm so glad" aloud as I walked around him slowly, trying not to startle the convalescent. My prayer changed, hoping for a long and happy life for my darling little bird friend.
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