So this little guy happened to fly (”thhhhhWONK”) into our sliding glass door. There’s yet another perfect grease stain in the shape of a squished dove body on the glass. Dad and I winced, ran over to see where he was, and as we’re standing there trying to determine if he’s dead or not, he wiggles a little and fidgits. Relief number one. So when we’re deciding what to do with him, I see Maggie (who has eaten live things in the past) and she’s heading out through the dog door.
“Don’t let Maggie eat him.” I tell dad, watching her as she gets closer and closer to the stunned bird, apparently oblivious.
“She won’t eat him. She doesn’t even see him.”Sure enough, two seconds after that, we see Maggie just stick her head under the swing without a care in the world and pick the damn thing up in her mouth.
“Oh, oh OH! No! Maggie! Bad dog!” We’re scolding and laughing at her at the same time, while still being sympathetic to the poor young dove who flutters off under the patio table.
So we stuck it in an open tupperwear box, and let it sit by itself for about thirty minutes, checking on it occasionally. Finally he flies off when I set the box on my lap to get a better look at him.Hopefully he didn’t just fly off into the next yard and die, I’m hoping he was just stunned and scared. But in any case… he escaped death twice today.
PS: New chapter of Candor is up!