I had a whole day of chores planned yesterday, but I found a bird instead.

I am the wussiest, cryingest (it’s a WORD!), sappiest suck when it comes to animals. I get upset about everything, and The Cheerleader I Live With can attest to this. Our walks tend to be longer than we initially plan for because I feel the need to move slugs off the footpath, and make sure that worms get to their destination before a fat foot or a car tire ruins the day. When the city decided to move 500 bunny rabbits to our house (we live in a city park for those who don’t know), The Cheerleader I Live With was horrendously stressed because he knew that I know that our house is essentially an eagle and coyote buffet already. When the bunnies started arriving, our household was tense with silence and worry for about a week straight. It was not a good time.

When it comes to animals, my hearts is HUGE. Too huge, really. In fact, sometimes when it comes to produce my heart is too huge. For example, if I am buying apples I just have to close my eyes and fill the bag because if I pick an apple up and see a bruise on it, I can’t put it back because then I feel guilty about the fact that this apple was excited to be picked, and then was let down by being put back. I don’t want the apple to feel unloved and unwanted! So I have to take every apple I touch, and just cut out the bad parts when I’m ready to eat it. Lord help me if I have to buy peppers, because I feel bad that I’ve taken one pepper and not its neighbour. What if they were husband and wife, or parent and child? I can’t separate them! That would just be cruel! When we need mushrooms, The Cheerleader I Live With doesn’t let me go near them for fear that I tearfully bring back an entire paper bag stuffed full of fungi family members.

But I was talking about birds. So, I went to my mom’s yesterday to do chore #1, which was to drop off $20 that I borrowed from her when I bought The Bloggess’ book on-line. (Pro-tip: do not eat, drink, or be near any other choking hazard while reading this book. I nearly died because I was eating popcorn while reading the part about the cow’s vagina. Don’t ask, just… go get the book and we can debrief later, alright?) I ran up the condo stairs and saw a teeny tiny bird sitting on the ground, next to a paper towel and a handful of breadcrumbs. I tried to ignore it, I really did. I knew the bird probably flew into the window and some nice person left some food there for it, but goddammit I just CAN’T unsee things, people! I went and got a box and picked up the teeny tiny bird (which I tried VERY HARD not to name) and took it home. And the day is now shot. Nothing else will happen when I have a teeny tiny window-bonked bird in a box.

After I let the dogs sniff it (because that’s what dog owners do), I put Little Boxed No Name outside on the porch and went for a walk. He was still there when I came back. He hadn’t moved, and he hadn’t died. This is where things get tricky for me. I knew he wasn’t in great shape because he had one eye closed and kept nodding his head to the side, which I assumed to mean that he had brain damage or something. So I went on-line and Googled ‘how do I humanely kill a teeny tiny bird?’… and after reading about beheadings, baggings, and chest- crushings, I decided that the best course of action was to let someone else deal with it. I’m not ashamed to pass the kill-a-bird buck, people.

So I took Little No Name to the vet. They were very nice and didn’t mock me at all when I explained the situation, or roll their eyes at me when I started to tear up while saying goodbye. I left the box with them, and walked out the door without looking back. And then I went and bought a pedometer and some sushi.

So anyway, today I have a few things to do, because yesterday I found a bird. Unfortunately I have to go grocery shopping today, and that’s never an in-and-out sort of thing. So if you see me in the produce section holding 2 full bags of mushrooms as I fill a third while softly crying, “It’s ok, little mushroom, don’t worry, you’re coming, too”, please call The Cheerleader I Live With to come and rescue me. Thank you.

Happy Thursday!