This morning I got to work (on time) and was sitting at my desk when my co-worker burst in, in a bit of a panic.  She told me that there was an injured bird hobbling around outside of our office, which is an old house converted into work space.  We watched it for a few minutes to see what was wrong with it.  We thought it might have flown into the window or hurt its wing somehow.  While we were outside, it started to pour (all that God-awful weather that hit Tennessee yesterday was heading towards Atlanta this morning).  I racked my brain trying to remember what I had ever heard about helping injured wild animals.  I knew I’d need some kind of box with a lid to put it in, but wasn’t sure what to do with it once I’d gotten it into the box.

I spent some time researching what to do while the poor little robin tried to hobble under a bush to avoid the rain.  After about 5 phone calls, I found someone who could help me and the bird.  She told me it had probably flown into the window and was disoriented, and I needed to bring it inside.  She told me to put a towel in the box for the robin to sit on and wrap it in the towel to keep it more calm when I picked it up (the gym bag that I rarely use with my towels in it suddenly became very useful).  When I put the little towel on the robin to pick it up, it didn’t really fight me – I thought it realized I was trying to save it.   I placed it in the box and brought it into my office since it was quieter in there than anywhere else. 

I peaked in on it a few times, and everything seemed to be ok.  It had moved from the middle of the box into the corner, and it pooped (I guessed that was a good sign).  About an hour after the robin had been in my office, I heard a noise.  It sounded like it was trying to get out of the box (I was told to keep it in the box for a few hours to see if it would be able to fly away) so I brought it outside and opened the box.  The poor little robin was lying on its side, twitching a little.  I started to freak out and called the woman back to help me.  She didn’t answer.  As I turned my attention back to the robin, I noticed that it wasn’t moving anymore.  After waiting a few more minutes I realized the robin had died, and I was so sad.  The woman called me back and told me that birds often have seizures right before they die, and that was what I had seen.  She told me that there was probably something else wrong with it, and she really appreciated that I went out in the rain and brought the robin inside to die in a warm and comfortable place.

Now, I have a dead robin in a box under my desk, and I’m not sure what to do with it.  I need to go outside and find a place to bury it (without a shovel) when it stops raining.  I just really wish I could have saved it. 

I’m such an animal person.  I brake and swerve for squirrels and other small critters in the road.  As a child I brought home every stray cat I found to try and save them.  I even brought home a stray puppy once – my parents were not so thrilled about that one.  I would have a zoo if I could and take in every hurt or neglected animal I could find.