Lucky Part Four

    The following is part of a true story.

The next few days passed without much different a routine than the days before the bird entered out life. The only difference was Mom’s calls to Jean. She kept asking how our bird friend was. Jean happily responded that our bird was doing okay. Considering what had happened, the bird’s life was not assured. Sure it was doing fine at the moment, but really its survival was not guaranteed. After all it went through, with the injury, the cold, and the damaged wing, odds were somewhat against our little bird friend. But every day, the little one kept going. It was truly a fighter. Jean managed to get into contact with a Wildlife Rehabilitation Guy who was willing to take our little bird and try to get it back to health and able to fly again, but there were no guarantees that it could ever fly again, or even survive any longer. It was all touch and go. To say this was intense was an understatement. After Jean got the bird to the Wildlife Rehabilitation Guy, we called Jean regularly just to see how our little bird friend was doing. And fortunately, things were going great. The bird was making great progress. Things were looking good.

 

            Finally, on one day, Jean gave us a call, saying the Wildlife Rehabilitation Guy was on his way with our little bird friend. So Mom and I crossed the street to Jean and John’s house to wait for him to come with the bird. The wait was not long. The Wildlife Rehabilitation Guy arrived. He stepped out of the car and got the bird, who was in a large plastic container, of course with breathing holes. We then learned five facts about the bird. First off, it was a yellow speckled sparrow. Next that it was a female. I did not convey this in my narration, but prior to this, we thought it was a little guy. On top of that, it was mature. Considering its size and comfort in Mom’s hand, we figured it was a baby. Fourth was that it had a head injury, which really wasn’t surprising. Finally, we learned it was, in fact, still able to fly. The Wildlife Rehabilitation Guy had brought our bird here because this was her natural habitat, where she grew up and was comfortable, to release her where she belonged. And so, the honors to open up the container was given to Mom, considering she was the one who found her. And so, mom opened up the container. At first, the bird looked confused, like she didn’t know quite what to do. Then, she spread her wings and leapt out of the container. Then she started to flap her wings, and took to the sky. She first alighted in one of Jean’s bushes, then flew off on her own to continue her life in the wild as a free animal. We all clapped as we watched her fly off. Then we shared a few words, especially thanking the Wildlife Rehabilitation Guy, then we all went back to our homes. Although we never actually give her a name, I thought of the only name that would ever fit our little bird friend: Lucky!

Lucky Part Three

   The following is part of a true story.

            So for a while, John, Sandy and I watched the bird. The bird was hopping around the cage. It seemed pretty with it, showing very little sign of damage. If there was conversation, I don’t remember. This was a very unusual, crazy, overwhelming and exciting situation. I even observed, “This is so crazy you just can’t make it up.”

            Finally, Jean and Mom came to the cage. “Do you think we can let it go?” Jean asked.

            After all of the watching, Mom said, “I think so.”

            Having seen the bird going on about the cage, John and I agreed.

            We walked outside with the birdcage. Mom placed it on the ground and opened the cage door. Mom coaxed the bird out of the cage. The bird flapped its wing and began to fly… only for a couple of seconds, literally. It landed in the snow. It began to hop around in the snow, but couldn’t manage to fly again.

            Mom immediately ran into the snow, trying to catch the bird, who was hopping around fast, but confused. It didn’t know where it was or what to do. After several hops, Mom was able to catch the bird, which then laid down into Mom’s Humane Society of the United States gloves, comfortable in the warmth of Mom’s hands.

            Jean held out the birdcage, and we were able to get the bird back into the birdcage after much struggle in trying to separate it from Mom’s gloved hands. It seemed that the bird had injured one of its wings, apparently unable to fly.

            We then assessed the situation. We had bird who couldn’t fly resting in a cage. We then decided that the best thing to do was leave it with Jean and see what would happen. Unfortunately, the bird didn’t seem like it would recover from being separates from its native habitat, being it the cold, and unable to fly. So that night, Mom and I said our goodbyes too the bird, hoping for it to have a peaceful passing away, then walked back across the street, sad, yet happy to have given the bird a little more time to live and that it didn’t freeze to death on our wooden deck. So then Mom went back to her room and I went back to reading my digital comics until we both went off into our sleepy status.

Lucky Part Two

  The following is part of a true story.

            At first, I wasn’t sure what to do, then I said, “I’ll go get Jean.”

            Jean was our neighbor across the street. She has had countless pets over the years, and I figured she’d be able to help, maybe even have a birdcage.

            I ran across the street in the cold night. Fortunately there was no traffic.

            I rang the doorbell. Her husband John answered the door. I launched into the fastest description of the situation as I could, probably messing up words. Essentially, I said, “There’s this bird! It flew into the house! Mom’s got it! Is Jean here?”

            John looked at me a little confused, then called out, “She’s in the potty. Hold on a second.” He walked over towards the bathroom and called out to her, exclaiming the situation as he understood it. Soon enough, Jean came out. “What’s the matter?” she asked.

            I was out of breath at this point, and essentially said, “Bird! Flew in house! Mom’s got!”

            Then the doorbell rang. Mom was at the door with the bird. Jean let my mom and the bird in. “It’s just sitting in your hands,” Jean observed. It was true. The little bird was just contently relaxing in Mom’s hands, just looking around curiously.

            “Aww,” Jean said, then turned to me and said, “I’ve got a birdcage in the attic. Can you help me get it?” she asked.

            I followed her into the house. She led me into the house. I helped her pull down the stairs into the attic and she walked up. She rummaged around a bit then produced the birdcage. “Here, take this,” she called.

            I reached up and took the cage from Jean’s hands, then got out of her way.

            As she walked down, she said to me, “Nice jammies!”

            I looked down. I had been relaxing and reading my digital comics so well and had been in my Avengers Assemble t-shirt and pajama pants. I had put on my heavy coat and boots, at least, but no socks. I had just had no time to dress due to the seriousness of the situation.

            Mom had been wearing jeans and a long sleeve shirt, but she could only barely slide on boots and had no coat, what with holding a bird in her hands and all.

            Once Jean had gotten down, she pointed me back into her living room, where I placed the birdcage down. Mom and Jean put the bird into the cage.

            Their dog Sandy was rather excited. This craziness was going on around her and it seemed to interest her.

            Mom and Jean had gone on to talk, leaving John, Sandy, and myself with the bird.

            “I think she wants to adopt the bird,” I observed.

            “I don’t think so,” John replied, “I think she wants to eat her.”

            Sandy had been very interested the whole time. She had been circling around, staring at the bird. She did seem that she want the bird as dessert, jumping around, slobbering, and trying to run towards the bird.

            “Mm,” I said in agreement.

Lucky Part One

 The following is part of a true story.

Lucky began on a cold January evening. It wasn’t snowing, but it was very cold. Mom was home, not working that day. She was resting in her bedroom. I was in the living room, reading digital comics on my laptop. We were both doing our own thing, essentially ignoring each other, or just minding our own business, to be more polite.

            At some point, we heard an enormous BAM! against the side of the house. I jumped, almost knocking my laptop off my lap. It was so loud and sudden and just so surprising. It came without any warning which, I guess are how things like this work.

            “What did you do?” Mom screamed from the bedroom. I’ve been known to throw and break things.

            For once this wasn’t me. “It wasn’t me! It came from outside!” I called back.

            Mom came out of her bedroom into the living room. Myself, well, I figured it was the deck outside the house. The deck always makes THUMP!s during the winter, the cold reacts with the wood, so I was ready to dismiss it. Mom, on the other hand, wasn’t.

            Mom walked over to the door and opened it. She looked over to the left of the door. “Oh, no!” she cried out.

            I kind of dismissed it. I was still reading my digital comics, after all.

            “Aww! Oh, no!” Mom said sadly.

            I sighed, and said almost dismissively, “What?”

            “It’s a bird. It flew into the side of the house,” Mom said sadly.

            “Yeah, like that’s never happened before,” I said, rolling my eyes. It does happen from time to time, after all.

            “I’ll go clean it up,” Mom said. Mom went to look for a shoebox and gloves. This was a standard thing for us. It happened once or twice a year. Mom had just gotten gloves from her Client that were given as a gift from The Humane Society of the United States, so she grabbed the shoebox and put on the gloves.

            I continued reading my digital comics on my laptop as Mom opened the door. She walked outside. I kept reading until she let out a gasp.

            I sighed and called out, “What?”

            “It’s still alive!” she cried out. She then started giving the baby talk to the bird.

            I just continued reading my digital comics on my laptop.

            “Come here!” Mom called.

            I sighed and rolled my eyes. “I’m reading,” I said, drawing out my words.

            “You’re never going to see this again in your life!” Mom called out again.

            I sighed again irritably and put down my laptop. I walked over to the door. There Mom was, standing with a little bird cupped in her hands. It was a cute little thing. It was looking around, confused. I could almost imagine it saying “Are you my mommy?”