\u201cBump,\u201d a dull thud against the window reaches my ears, followed by the faintest rustle on the terrace floor. Both my reaction\u2014with nine months of cargo in my belly\u2014and Ego\u2019s\u2014who seems deeply asleep on the ground\u2014are equally instinctive.<\/p>\n
We both rush to the source of the sound. I know what I might see, and I must bypass the half-year-strength-blooming German Shepherd. Otherwise, I\u2019m almost certain that if I come second, the unlucky little bird will end up in Mister Ego\u2019s \u201cjaws.\u201d<\/p>\n
You won\u2019t believe it. I think. First! I grab the little bird lying on the ground. Life seems to light up for three reasons:<\/p>\n
The bird is alive!
\nIt\u2019s not in the jaws of a tail-wagging, circling dog.
\nI am not the clumsiest whale on Earth.
\nIf I managed to outpace the dog, maybe there\u2019s a hint of gazelle in me too! I hold the tiny bird in my hands, silently praying: just don\u2019t close your eyes. Just stay warm\u2026<\/p>\n
At first, the bird is weak and, when I put it on the table, it hardly moves. Its tiny claws struggle to hold on. I understand\u2014nature. I understand\u2014it\u2019s just a bird. But still. It\u2019s alive! It feels! Knowing the sharp-toothed neighbor cats are prowling nearby, and our alert dog doesn\u2019t leave its side, I scoop the bird up again and head home to find it shelter. I grab a cardboard shoebox, line it with a towel, and gently\u2014gently as can be\u2014settle in the little \u201cpatient.\u201d<\/p>\n
I \u201cnurse\u201d it all day. Placing the box where I can see it, I keep glancing at the tiny inhabitant. I pour a bit of water into the bottle cap, and over the day notice the bird pecking at it. It drinks! It might live! It might recover!<\/p>\n
In the evening, after the kids return from school, I tell the story of our new home \u201cresident.\u201d
\n\u201cWhat do we do?\u201d They both press their noses to the cardboard box. I shrug, and the bird, sensing my concern, stirs more energetically.<\/p>\n
Romantic Pa comes up with a plan to raise it in her room, instead of a parakeet. Practical Do gently sets his sister straight: it\u2019s a wild bird, and its home is the forest, not her room\u2019s captivity.<\/p>\n
Finally, the whole family delegation moves toward the agreed plan\u2014trying to place the bird in the birdhouse Dad built. It\u2019s set high up, unreachable by cats or our highly curious, pecking, box-investigating Ego.<\/p>\n
Gently, as gently as possible, we place the bird in the birdhouse. Holding our breath, eyes wide, we wait. For a moment, the tiny creature tilts its head, spreads its wings, and joyfully chirps before flying off into the forest.<\/p>\n
We return from the \u201coperation\u201d carrying an empty box. The kids are buzzing with the experience of being little rescuers. And I carry in my heart the unscripted lesson we showed them:
\nDo not be indifferent.
\nNot to the pain of others.
\nEven if it\u2019s tiny. Almost weightless. A bird that unexpectedly hit the window.<\/p>\n
V.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"template":"","class_list":["post-17623","istorija","type-istorija","status-publish","hentry"],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/viktorijos.lt\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/istorija\/17623","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/viktorijos.lt\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/istorija"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/viktorijos.lt\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/istorija"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/viktorijos.lt\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=17623"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}