Yesterday, I Cried

Let me paint a little picture for you:

Around 5:30 last night, I decided to take Addie for a walk. I'd been working from home all day and basically ignoring her, so I thought she could use some attention. We walked about two houses down, and I noticed a small bird on the sidewalk. So did Addie. So she took off running toward it.

Obviously I expect the bird to fly away, but it did not. So I stop Addie, pick her up, and walk over to the tiny bird. It looked up at me with big, terrified eyes, and had it's mouth open in what looked like a silent scream. It was so pathetic looking, it broke my heart. It was obviously scared of me, and it started trying to hop away. But it couldn't even really hop. So I started plotting how I could help the little guy.

I walked Addie down a few more houses, let her do her business, then picked her back up and walked back to the bird. "Okay, I'll be right back little guy, don't worry!". Literally said this out loud to the bird. This is when I realized I might be losing it.

I sat Addie down and ran inside as fast as we could. I had called Arsen when I first saw the bird to ask if I should take it water. His advice? Sure. Clearly he wasn't too concerned.

So I grab a little bowl of water and run back outside. The poor little bird had now hopped into the street, so I started panicking about it getting hit. Naturally, I called my mom for advice since Arsen was pretty much worthless. I asked her if birds drink water; she said she would never tell anyone I asked that question, and have I ever heard of bird baths? Okay, so water was a good move. I kept her on the phone with me as I tried to corral the little thing back onto the sidewalk, but he kept going further into the street. I went out into the street and started scooting my feet at him so he would hop back to safety. I tried to interest him in the water I brought. Not happening. So I poured some in front of him, hoping he would get the idea. Nope. He just fluttered his little wing at me.

At this time I took a closer look, and I noticed that all the feathers on one side of his neck were missing. I'm assuming he got into some sort of altercation that led to his poor state. By this point I'm realizing that I may not be able to help him, and I get a bit worked up. I tell my mom I have to go or I'm going to cry.

I stood there and stared at him for a solid five minutes. His poor little mouth was still open in that silent scream, and he was panting so hard. It was still almost 100 outside, so I was worried about him becoming dehydrated. I poured him some more water. Still no interest. So I went back to the house, hoping that when Arsen got home he would have an answer.

By the time I got inside, I was in tears. I stood in the kitchen and sniffled a bit, which turned into a full on cry. I didn't quite make it to an ugly cry, but I got pretty dang close. It was seriously the most I've cried in months. Every time I would stop, I would think about that poor tiny bird, and there I'd go again. I started Googling vets in the area that deal with birds, just in case I could convince Arsen that this would be a good idea.

Addie was fascinated. She stood across the kitchen staring at me with a confused look on her face. About that time, Arsen got home. First thing he said to me was "Why are you crying?" in a voice that let me know he already knew. I said something along the lines of "That poor bird is out there dying in the street and I don't know what to do!". By the look on his face, I could tell he was not impressed.

So we went about our business, getting ready for dinner, me looking out the window and reporting on what I saw, him trying desperately to ignore me. I saw the little thing hopping around in the street, and once a truck came dangerously close to hitting him. Arsen kept saying there was nothing I could do and I needed to just shut the blinds, but I couldn't look away. After 15 minutes or so he stopped hopping. And I never saw him move again.

It was awful. Now I'm not going to be able to take Addie on her normal walking route, because I'm pretty sure if I see his little body I may burst into tears. I'm sure some of the neighbors witnessed my failed rescue mission, I don't need them to think I'm completely insane.

Yes, I realize how ridiculous it is that I just wrote an incredibly long post about a tiny bird, but this is the mental state I'm in. I seriously felt like I made an emotional connection with that little guy, and to just stand by and let him die felt like the cruelest thing I could have ever done.

And no, I'm not pregnant. I'm sure that crossed a few minds. Just emotionally unstable apparently.