Wounded bird

Yet again, our clinic here at work not only pertains to helping people, but animals as well.

For awhile now, Carol has been taking care of the stray cats behind the clinic. Today it has extended beyond the cat variety....

About half an hour ago, I was standing near the front desk talking with one of my clients who had just walked in. He began to tell me that he saw a bird just outside of the door to the clinic that looked wounded. He didn't know what happened to the bird, but thought maybe the neck was broken. I walked over to our window door, peering outside. My client walked over to me and pointed out where he was limping around, on the icy sidewalk to the right. Carol was on the phone and I automatically motioned over to her, knowing she is quite the animal lover. After she got off the phone minutes later, she walked over to us and we told her what was going on. Carol went outside and kneeled down next to the pigeon, gently talking to him (like I said, Carol loves animals!). I started to walk away, figuring she would handle it in her own Carol-esque way, but I hear her banging on the door. I turn around and see Carol holding the pigeon in her hands, motioning for me to open the door, which I do. "Oh, we're bringing the pigeon inside?! Ok..." I say.

Carol strides to the back of the clinic and plops him down on our kitchen floor. His head is tilted to one side and he's relatively calm for a pigeon, not moving or flapping his wings much. I ask Carol what's she going to do, if there's someone to call. My client who told me about the pigeon had asked if he could walk back there to see him. "Sure." We three chatted about animals for a few minutes as we monitored the pigeon, then my client left. Meanwhile, Carol takes out a piece of bread and breaks it up to feed to the pigeon. One of Carol's clients had shown up for a session and she said she had to go. "Well, what are you going to do with him Carol? We can't leave him in the kitchen!" She hands me the gloves she had put on to pick him up and tells me to take care of him since I seem to be giving her direct orders. "I don't know how to take care of a pigeon!" I tell her. I joke with her about how the weirdest things happen to us at this clinic and she laughs, joking back to me something about leaving this place/going out with a bang.

I ask her how long she's going to be with the client because the pigeon can't be left alone. "I don't know..." Great. Katie gets stuck with babysitting a pigeon in the kitchen. Well, I was leaning against the door frame of the kitchen door, so I felt more like a bouncer or security guard for the pigeon, but still! The things I do for Carol! I stand there for about 8 minutes as Carol is in her session and the pigeon lays curled up in a ball in the far corner of the kitchen's floor.

I debate whether I should call my veterinarian friend Melissa for some wounded animal medical advice, but she lives in San Francisco. It's two hours behind Chicago time, which means I would be calling her at 5:30 to 6 in the morning. I decide against it. Carol and I also didn't think any animal shelter or vet would really want to help a pigeon of all animals. Plus, the sad reality is that the pigeon's leg seemed to be broken. He seemed to be dying. There didn't seem anything we really could do...except give him a private, more dignified and peaceful way to die. Carol put her gloves back on, grabbed an old kitchen towel and wrapped it around him as she picked him up. I opened the door for Carol, who told me she walked around the corner to one of the alleys to put him in a secluded spot. She left the towel on him so that he would at least be a little warmer.

So much for the happy ending, but Carol and I tried...as we always do with our 'helping' and nurturing roles. R.I.P. dear pigeon.