No Good Deed Goes Unpunished
So I rescued a tiny, little sparrow from the front of Mr. Bee's office yesterday. It was on the sidewalk with one wing dragging. He didn't even try to scoot or protest as I walked over to him. I scooped him up and got in the passenger seat of the car. Mr. Bee belted us in as I cooed at the poor sweetie. He sat perfectly still just blinking as we started out for the animal rehabilitator. So serene. So adorable. Just so Gosh. Darn. Cute.
Until we got on the highway.
As soon as we approached cruising altitude, he went absolutely POSTAL and threw a little birdy snit fit of Alfred Hitchcock-ean proportions. He literally turned from sweet, docile, little, 3-inch tall, Tweety into the Gargantuan Death Bird from Hell in the blink of an eye. He spent the next 7 excruciating miles furiously trying to drill his way through my palms with his tiny razor like beak. He scrambled. He pecked. He fluttered. He bored. He bit me and made me say bad words.
I went from cooing and cuddling to snarling and threatening to turn his little birdy bones into paste and hang his broken wing feathers from the rear view mirror.
We got him to the clinic and were met by the receptionist who gushed about what a cute little thing he was. I quickly thrust him into her hands mumbling something to the tune of "Cute little thing my BLEEP!" and skedaddled. (I did call later and they said that he would be fine and commented on him being a 'little feisty'. Yeah. In the same way that the Arctic Circle is a 'little chilly'.)
Even though I disinfected within an inch of my life afterward, I still have sting-ey holes, welts and red spots on both palms. Just my luck, try to be a good Samaritan and get the Bird Flu, or Little Birdy Feet and Beak Disease or whatever it is you can get from being nearly pecked to death by what basically amounted to a wee assassin with wings. It's not stopping me from spinning though. I really can't think of a scenario that would at this point other than traction or incarceration and even then I'd be eyeing the IV tubing or the fluff in my little thin prison mattress and thinking about it. I spent quite some time today talking myself out of collecting the milkweed fluff outside my office window and giving that a whirl. Hey! I totally get that saying now!
Off to the Quilt Expo tomorrow! If you see me, say "Howdy".
Until we got on the highway.
As soon as we approached cruising altitude, he went absolutely POSTAL and threw a little birdy snit fit of Alfred Hitchcock-ean proportions. He literally turned from sweet, docile, little, 3-inch tall, Tweety into the Gargantuan Death Bird from Hell in the blink of an eye. He spent the next 7 excruciating miles furiously trying to drill his way through my palms with his tiny razor like beak. He scrambled. He pecked. He fluttered. He bored. He bit me and made me say bad words.
I went from cooing and cuddling to snarling and threatening to turn his little birdy bones into paste and hang his broken wing feathers from the rear view mirror.
We got him to the clinic and were met by the receptionist who gushed about what a cute little thing he was. I quickly thrust him into her hands mumbling something to the tune of "Cute little thing my BLEEP!" and skedaddled. (I did call later and they said that he would be fine and commented on him being a 'little feisty'. Yeah. In the same way that the Arctic Circle is a 'little chilly'.)
Even though I disinfected within an inch of my life afterward, I still have sting-ey holes, welts and red spots on both palms. Just my luck, try to be a good Samaritan and get the Bird Flu, or Little Birdy Feet and Beak Disease or whatever it is you can get from being nearly pecked to death by what basically amounted to a wee assassin with wings. It's not stopping me from spinning though. I really can't think of a scenario that would at this point other than traction or incarceration and even then I'd be eyeing the IV tubing or the fluff in my little thin prison mattress and thinking about it. I spent quite some time today talking myself out of collecting the milkweed fluff outside my office window and giving that a whirl. Hey! I totally get that saying now!
Off to the Quilt Expo tomorrow! If you see me, say "Howdy".
Comments
He and Owen once rescued a swallow from a quarry where they were fossil hunting. No one got injured bringing him home, but he was a young'un and very near to death. We fed him earwigs and meal worms and then took him to the clinic on the beltline. They said he fledged the next day.
i do enjoy them.
sorry you've been pecked.