The Curse of Snow White

Rocky started barking today while I had a client/friend over. Nothing too unusual about that, he’ll bark at the rain if you let him. It was the way he was barking. Something was at the door and it was troubling him. As usual, I ignored him until he stopped barking and went to lie down. When I was escorting my client out the door I saw it: A little bird sitting on the front step. Gina almost stepped on the little fella. He was hurt, struggling for air and looking mighty sad. I sent Gina on her way and turned to the little guy. Blood was coming out of his beak. He’d been hit by a car or attacked by a cat and was suffering internal bleeding. There was little I could do for him. I sat there next to him and watched him struggle for air through the blood that was surely choking him. I muttered softly to him as he opened and closed his mouth. In less than a minute, I watched him lie down on his side and gasp a few more times. His little heart pounded in his chest, making his tiny little frame shake. Then finally, as his short little life slipped away, I watched the calm take over. His heart slowed. His eyes closed. He was at peace.

Animal Control informed me that it is that time of year, but it still didn’t make it any easier to watch. I’ve been blessed/cursed with a Snow White affinity with animals. All the lost dogs and cats of the neighborhood seem to make their way to my door. So why shouldn’t a sad little bird? Perhaps I terrified him in his last moments, some huge blob watching over, waiting for him to die? I’m sure a howling beagle didn’t help. But perhaps, maybe, as the final witness to his brief adventure here on earth, I provided a bit of comfort? A kind heart to watch over him, to protect him from harm one last time.

I like to think that.

Who will love a little Sparrow?
Who's traveled far and cries for rest?
"Not I," said the Oak Tree,
"I won't share my branches with
no sparrow's nest,
And my blanket of leaves won't warm
her cold breast."

Who will love a little Sparrow
And who will speak a kindly word?
"Not I," said the Swan,
"The entire idea is utterly absurd,
I'd be laughed at and scorned if the other Swans heard."

Who will take pity in his heart,
And who will feed a starving sparrow?
"Not I," said the Golden Wheat,
"I would if I could but I cannot I know,
I need all my grain to prosper and grow."

Who will love a little Sparrow?
Will no one write her eulogy?
"I will," said the Earth,
"For all I've created returns unto me,
From dust were ye made and dust ye shall be."

Remember to keep an eye out for the little birds. It’s that time of year.