Today I found a bird while working in the yard. It's no secret that I suffer from an irrational fear of birds. I've blogged about it. It was small, wounded or sick, and hopping around. In a crazy-mom-move, I put the pets in the garage, got the bird book and the kids and we went out to figure out what kind of bird was sick in the yard.
They were so excited to save a small life. I was excited for them, but not to confident that the bird would recover. I might have even been
ambivalent scared. Imagine my good fortune to live directly next door to the head of the Sierra Audubon society. He is a bird lover, and I have told him I'm no good with birds. I sent the kids over there for his help.
He gave us the number for the wild-life rescue association in town, and we took the bird there only seconds after I figured out the kids were not going to let the bird's life be up to fate/nature. This got the bird out of range of flying near me, and made them small heros.
They made the calls, they filled out the paperwork, they captured the Black Gross Beak. It turns out that the small juvenile bird was not sick, or injured, just tired. He was too young to fly all the way with the adults, so he took a rest in my flower bed.
Hopefully he will be flying the skies soon, after a nap and a sandwich. I proved to myself that I would do anything for love, even if there are small flying creatures involved.
Also, if you are a Meatloaf fan, you might remember his hit, "I would do anything for love, but I won't do that". It reminded me of today, except for the last bit of the title. Warning: it has the words 'sex', 'drugs', and 'rock-and-roll'. Be warned!