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Our sweet feathered friends…

As I was writing in my office early this morning, I heard a sickening “thud” against the family room windowpane, and knew immediately it was a bird. I headed out into the backyard and found a mourning dove lying on her side in the grass. It just made me sick. I picked her up and held her gently in my hands. She was warm, her heart was still beating but her eyes were closed and she was limp. I figured she had a broken neck and it was just a matter of time. I knew there wasn’t anything to do for her except hold her. I stroked her feathers, her wings, her tiny neck and head, first on one side and then the other. My eyes filled with tears and I felt so sad for her. I am such a softy for birds and animals and kids. After a few minutes, much to my amazement, she opened her eyes, fluttered in my hands a few times and then flew into nearby tree.

It was only a bird, a mourning dove, but my heart soared with her. “Bless the beasts and the children for in this world they have no voice…they have no choice.”

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