Little Bird

A day unlike any other. I got off my bus, thought about going to get a coffee but instead started down the pathway I almost always take to get to my Mon/Wed/Fri morning class. It's a beautiful morning, February 8th 2013, no snow and not a cloud in the sky. I hear a "bang" and turn to my right to see a pigeon slowly flutter down to the grass below the library window it had flown into. I stop and stair at it a moment. I decided I would go see if it was OK. A split second after my decision two magpies fly over to it and instantly  started picking on it. By then I was not walking over but running. The magpies flew from me but the pigeon was not the least bit startled by my presence. The little bird just looked up at me. I bent down and picked him up. "Don't touch that wild bird, it could have diseases" were the words of my mother, grandmother, and other voices in my head speaking to me that I recollected from my childhood. But having worked at a pet store for long enough to know how to take safe precautions I scooped it up into my arms anyways. I could tell that he was not well. He did fly into a window and was terrorized by two other birds!
Inside I knew right away that this bird was not going to make it, and I had class in 15 minutes. Suddenly the bird stretched its wings and flew a strong sturdy flight away from me. I watched it for a bit in hopes that I would see it disappear into the sunrise. But then it tried twice to land in a tree not too far away and ended up on the ground below the tree. I was going to leave it be and it would be OK or die in peace but then I notice a dozen magpies starting over to where the pigeon had landed. My heart stopped and without having to think about it I found myself running across the open field to the scene. I noticed a gentlemen walking by who saw the magpies ganging up on this poor bird and he was approaching them not sure of what to do. Just then I dove into the scene and liberated the pigeon from the bullying of the flock. I picked it up again and headed to entrance of the school closest to my class. Realizing that bringing a hurt pigeon with possible "diseases" into a University might not go over well, I walked to the window of my class. I saw a classmate, see saw my with the pigeon, and she came to the entrance. I explained what happened. I told her "I know it is going to die, but I can't let it die that way". He then sat outside with me for a little while until we walked over to the classroom window again to see if our professor was in the class yet. We saw him enter and then got his attention, he saw the bird and came to the entrance as my classmate did before. My classmate headed to class while I told my professor what had happened and how I couldn't just let this bird die from being attached like that. He said something about how class was going to start soon and he didn't know what to do. I thought he meant ' Come to class and let the bird go and die or miss class and deal with it.' But then I realized that he meant was 'We need to put this bird somewhere safe to pass away or at least be safe until class is done so we can figure it out'. So we went down to a room not bring used and placed the little bird in a box with some fabric covered it and went to class. When we got out of class him and I both went to go check on the bird. It had passed away. It looked sound and comfortable. He seemed surprised that it had passed but I knew it would. It had gone through a lethargic state. And working at the pet store I remember trying to save many birds and what it looks like to know they won't make it. We first went and found a shovel. We then went to the shop where I made the little bird a wooden box casket and sealed the little bird in it. That way I could bury it with out knowing that something would digit up and undo the work and affection in burying it in the first place. My professor asked me in the shop if I was OK to do the rest my self. I was honestly surprised he had shown so much care and understanding for what was going on and how I felt in the first place. He headed to his commitments and I took the shovel and the little bird secure in it's box to a cluster of trees and bushes in the coolies and I buried it there with a description on the box that said "Rest In Peace, Little Bird. Feb, 8th/2013 ". Maybe it would have been justified to leave that bird to pass away, by what some would consider naturally, by the food-chain/the viscous circle of life. Or I could have killed it myself to save it any possible prolonged suffering. But I could do neither. So I showed the little bird the heart I know and affection I have. I loved that bird even only knowing it a short while. And from the moment that little bird looked up at me, below the library window, I know it knew that I would keep it safe until it was time for it to go. It did not flail in my arms, or squawk, or yell. It sat quietly struggling only to get from life to death.

This day has shown me so many things. So many amazing things. :)