Feathers & Paw Prints

Here's a recap of my week so far and the animal encounters I've had...This one's not very well-written, sorry...

Monday: I made the decision to take Perky and Pepsi on walks. They go separately due to the age gap and difference in activity between them. Plus, Pepsi can be a pain in the behind just walking by herself, let alone with another dog.

Perky went first, and I knew this walk wouldn't take long because of her arthritis. I also knew she would really enjoy the sunshine and being able to sniff around a little. We walked very slow and steady, only going two houses down, around the corner, and to the end of the short side of the block. Then Perky just stood there for a while, sniffing the air, taking it all in. I almost made her turn round right away to head back, but then I realized that this could be her last walk. She's old, her kidneys are failing, we could lose her any day. I wanted her to enjoy herself so I let her just stand there for a while.

After a bit I turned Perky around and we began our short journey home. She walked slower this time and I knew she'd poop out before we got back. As we reached the corner she stopped and I picked her up and carried her the rest of the way. I patted her head and kissed her as I walked. I'm glad she got to see a bit of the world that day.

Pepsi was next and this time I took my camera because I knew the walk would be considerably longer. We walked along the park block and we visited my mom at work, just another block down. Pepsi got a drink of water and I got a...well, a Pepsi, and we went on our way back home, this time throught the park instead of along its sidewalk.

Pepsi frollicked along in the grass and I watched her cute and manic weaving, stopping, and pulling with amusement. She's so cute and I would never change any of her cartoonish ways. I spotted a few purple irises growing along the pond and I made my way over to shoot some pictures. Pepsi, of course, wanted to get down in the muck of the pond. We explored the area for a while, but found no more photo opportunities, so we continued on our way back home.

Pepsi was still quite energetic upon reaching our residence, but she was hot and thirsty, yet content from her bout of exercise. I had a good time too.

Tuesday: At 8:30 I reluctantly dragged myself out of bed, realizing a few seconds before that I only had about an hour to get ready to go work with my dad. I let Pepsi out of her kennel, took her downstairs and put her outside, and made my way to the porch where the new kitty, Mia, currently resides. To my surprise she was sitting on the corner perch up by the windows that was built for our other cat, Dharma, wide-eyed and beautiful. The moment she saw me step into her space she jumped down and came to me. That's right, the spooky, terrified new cat missed me over night and threw caution to the wind to greet me. She allowed me to pet her and rubbed her body against my legs as I spoke to her in amazement. I was so happy that she was finally showing improvement, finally feeling comfortable in my presence.

Just two days before I was so worried that Mia would never be content in her new home. That small act of just coming to me was so wonderful and I finally have some hope for her. She is still a little skittish and won't allow us to pick her up, but she is more comfortable walking around when people are on the porch with her. She finally started eating some and regularly using her litter box. I think she has the potential to become a normal, loving indoor kitty. Thank goodness.

At lunchtime I was sitting in the living room with my laptop and my food, you know, the essentials, when I heard a loud DONK! Right away I knew what had happened. Another bird flew into our big front window. I got up and looked down through the glass to see a young grey bird in a daze among our landscaping wood chips.

I immediately went outside to check on the poor little animal. She was young, had speckles on her chest, but I don't know what kind of bird she was, just that she wasn't a robin. I gingerly picked her up and could feel her trembling. I examined her for any obvious injuries and noticed that one eye was blinking and one was not. At first I thought it was the blinking eye that was injured, but I turned out to be wrong.

My dad came outside and looked at her, and then tried placing her on a branch in our big tree. She fell off. So then, Dad lightly tossed her into the air, but her wings only fluttered, not enough to sustain flight. He gave her back to me and I planned to stay with her until she recovered, or died. I liked the feeling of her perched along my finger anyway.

So, I just sat in the sun in my driveway, lightly petting my new friend and examining her wings. She wasn't trembling as much and seemed a little more alert. I tried a few times to set her into flight, but she still couldn't do it and she was content in my company. I walked around with her and talked to her a bit...it's so easy for me to talk soothingly to animals...and that was about the time I noticed.

In the time that I had held her, the eye that was not blinking had become red and watery, her eyelid very swollen. It also looked as though the eye itself was not functioning. It did not respond to the wave of my hand. I was worried and feared she was in pain. I even considered taking her to the vet. I had to tell myself that she's a wild animal, and though quite fragile, I was sure birds lived through these little mishaps all the time.

I kept on holding her, petting her, letting her collect herself. She wouldn't take off from my hand and I didn't want her to fall and brake a leg. I kneeled down along the yard, placed the young bird in my palm and gently wrapped my fingers around her little body. You can do it this time I thought. Then I tossed her up into the air and she flapped her wings, flying into the tree nearby.

I was oddly proud and incredibly relieved. It felt so good to see her fly successfully, to witness hope that the little bird could live on, and that I was a part of it. That's the best feeling, helping an animal.

Wednesday: I got a call late in the afternoon from my brother. He wanted my help in deciding what to do with three baby birds whose nest he had moved from just outside his bedroom window. In the call he said they looked to be close to flying age, but he asked if I wanted to come over and see them. He wanted me to help him decide what to do. So of course, I went.

It was obvious upon seeing the babies that they were not quite near flying age, their feathers weren't close to fully grown. I picked up one of the birds and looked it over. It seemed lively enough, but my brother and I both knew the mother would never come back for them now that the nest had been disturbed.

I agreed to take the babies home with me and see if there was any way I could care for them. When I showed them to my dad he immediately got a grave look on his face. He told me these birds were sparrows, the most difficult to feed. They did not take bits of bread soaked in milk like many abandoned birds he had cared for in his youth. These babies would not survive. There was nothing I could do.

It was a sad thing to accept, but my dad told me he would humanely end their lives so they wouldn't have to starve to death. It was the only compassionate option. I hate when these things happen. I come across many baby birds in my summers, most have fallen out of our front tree, and most don't survive, even with the bread and milk. They are just so fragile and it's almost futile to try and care for the little creatures...but I just can't leave them in the open to suffer. I just can't turn my back.

I may love animals too much, I may have too much compassion for God's creatures for my own good, but I don't think I'd change it if I had the option. It can be so rewarding and it can really warm my heart. That makes all the sad times, all the futile attempts worth it.