Free as a Bird

Last night while we were eating our pizza dinner in the front yard, a bird flew into our storm door. Literally. It slammed into the glass and fell onto the cement porch right behind where I sat. It sat dazed and confused until it hopped with its limp wing onto the grass where it remained in the same spot until Sara rescued it.

We were all concerned about the tiny creature. Would it live? Would it recover in time to fly away before it became a cat's meal?

Sara lined a shoe box with a washcloth, tissue, and cotton balls. She placed food scraps and a small container of water in the box. She easily caught the bird with her bare hands and took it to its new temporary home/hospital in the box atop her dresser. We all resumed our normal activities.

When Sara checked on the bird later, the shoe box was empty. A thorough check of her room provided no clues. The family was alerted, and everyone searched. No luck. I had visions of a bird landing on my face while I was sleeping. Not a pleasant thought.

Everyone headed to bed except me because I had to take a cool shower so I could sleep better in the 90-degree house temperature. As I was drying off, I heard Lance shout, "I found the bird!" It seems that the little fowl found its way to our bedroom window and hid behind my newly-sewn curtains. Lance saw it as it flew to the top of our door. Obviously, the bird was well enough to fly.

Lance caught the bird in the shoe box, and much to Sara's dismay, took it outside to release it. Would it survive? Sara's mind was eased when the bird climbed onto Lance's finger and flew up into the cherry tree.

Despite the heat, I slept better than I would have had the bird still been loose in our house.

AN AMMENDMENT, WRITTEN BY LANCE:
Actually, Natalie failed to mention that I instructed Sara to *not* bring the bird in the house. Despite that instruction, the female "motherly-care" instinct prevailed and a shoebox was obtained for a mini-bird-Hilton experience. I would say hospital, however, Sara found every type of food that the bird might like and put it in there along with water and soft cushion material as well. Later in the day, Sara came to me with a quizzical expression on her face. "Did you release the bird?", she asked. The bird had evidently checked out of the bird-Hilton and didn't notify management. Later after I had caught the bird flying around in our bedroom (note: no living animals were harmed in this exercise), and had taken the bird outside, Sara and I had an exchange that went something like this:

me: "OK, I'm going to release the bird" (I take the lid off the bird-Hilton shoebox).

sara: (pointing at the fact that the bird is still crouched down in the corner of his/her luxurious bird-hilton suite) "Look, it's afraid. I'll put holes in the lid and we can take it back inside."

me: "No! The bird is fine, it flew around our bedroom" (I set the box on the ground and slightly tip it so that the bird must leave the presidential bird-Hilton suite. The bird jumps to my finger, and then flies to a nearby tree. In the process of tipping the box so the bird will leave, the bird buffet spills around the box leaving food and water all over.)

sara: "You've ruined the box".

There are lessons here …