Fly away

A few hours ago (while I was writing my gratitude post) Gwennie and I heard a THUD against our living room window. It happened right behind the curtain, so we didn't see what had happened. Gwennie went outside, with Penny in tow. I heard her yelling at Penny, but I wanted to finish my post. Will came downstairs and we both went out to see what Gwennie was doing. She had a soaking wet sparrow in her hands.

She had rescued the bird from Penny's mouth. Apparently it had knocked itself out when it hit the window, it had also pooped on the window. Then it attracted Penny's attention. Gwennie was lovingly holding it and gently petting its breast. It was still breathing, but seemed stunned (of course, if I was that size and Penny tried to eat me, I would be in shock, too.) Will and I discussed what to do. I was sure it would die. I was already trying to figure out how best to talk to Gwennie about that, I wanted Will to take it from her and put it out of its misery. Will wanted to give it some time, find it a sunny spot to dry off in and let it be. He was sure it would die, but wanted to give it time.

Now normally I would NOT want to "put it out of its misery" but I was so worried about it suffering. Plus, I didn't want Gwennie to walk around holding it for hours either, gross bird germs, you know.

We let Gwennie hold it a bit longer, then I gently took the bird and examined it, checked its wings, and breast for blood. It seemed in relatively good health, I mean besides being slobbery. Will placed it in the garden, in a sunny location, and we all walked away. He told Gwennie it was likely going to die, but we needed to leave it alone.

Time passed, I was sewing, and we kept Penny away from the bird and the garden. Gwennie checked on it after an hour and informed me that it had buried itself a little in the dirt. Then a bit after that, she and I went out to see it, and it was gone. I checked around for signs of it, but it was nowhere to be found. (There were also no feathers to indicate a cat had gotten it.)

Gwennie happily ran upstairs to tell Will he was wrong, and it hadn't died. I was pretty happy, too.

I'm sad that I didn't take any pictures of her holding the bird. But I was so sure it was a goner, I didn't want the reminder of that. I have plenty of memories of dying birds from my own childhood, I am thankful that I don't have this one to add to that list.