Yesterday I saved a baby robin from drowning. It had accidentally somehow landed in the pool, I'm not sure how it happened, I didn't see that part. All I know is I saw weird ripples in the water, and heard some lame attempt at flapping. I looked over to the source, and saw Honey (my bunny eating golden retriever) staring down at the poor thing. I climbed into the pool, skimmer in hand, and scooped up the little bird, then put it down in the shade of a bush in our neighbor's yard. I figured at the very least the bird wouldn't be eaten by my dog. An hour later, it was gone.
Strange how you can feel such sympathy for another living creature. My brother didn't even move, he just stared at it like it wasn't his problem. And honestly, I'm no big fan of birds, I've been pooped on by them, I've had my car used as a regular restroom by them (they like to sit on the side view mirrors and look at themselves), I find them loud, dirty, and really quite mean. But for some reason, seeing that poor little robin flapping away in the water, I felt like I had to help it, even if it would later go on to wake me up at the crack of dawn singing, pooh all over my car, and leave worms in my driveway. Maybe I won't be a crappy mom after all.
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