It was around one in the morning when I parked my car and walked around to the side of the house to my apartment. It was still steamy hot from the day before, July fourth. I was exhausted, beyond tired and my eyes and brain barely registered the baby bird laying on my porch. As I turned the key to the front door I gave it a second glance only this time I realized that it was hurt.
It was meekly flapping its wing and making a barely audible noise, a kind of cry for help, I suppose. Obviously hurt I knew I couldn't leave it there to die on my porch. So I ran inside to find a towel and an empty shoebox. My dog ran out the door after me happy to be outside and also curious about the visitor. I wrapped my hand in the towel and scooped up the broken body of the bird and placed it in the shoebox. I carried it in my arms as my dog sniffed around and found a place to pee.
I packed us all into my car. My dog in the front passenger seat, the dying bird in the box on my lap and drove to the emergency vet. I whispered the whole way there, "Please don't die, please don't die, please don't die. " At every stoplight I looked down to make sure it was still breathing, still holding on. As I pulled into the parking lot, I glanced down to see that its wings had stopped beating. Dead. Didn't make it. Almost. Made it.
I sat in the car for a few minutes debating whether I should bother going in. I sat with a dead bird in my lap and a barking dog in my car at 1:30 in the morning and I cried. For a lot of reasons, but mostly because I felt that I could have been faster in getting to the vet and possibly I could have saved its life. If I had sacrificed my dog's need to go out, If I hadn't taken so long in finding the shoebox. What if, what if, what if? I beat myself up and analyzed the situation from a thousand angles.I did go inside, barely saying a word, I shoved the shoebox at the doctor who answered the door and explained that it just died and I didn't know what to do. She smiled at me and took it away. I went back to the car and drove home and realized that doing all you can do is sometimes the only thing you can do. If you make every effort and the outcome isn't always what you want, you have to let that be. I can't rescue every dying bird, but I'll always try.
Posted by Suzanne at April 13, 2004 09:06 PM
This is a really beautiful entry, Suz.
Posted by: lacey at April 16, 2004 12:03 PM