(Insert Photo of Chickadee Here)
On the brisk, autumn morning of September 26th I clome (wink wink) out of my bed and aimlessly walked down the stairs. I plopped my body on the couch and pressed the "On" button on my TV remote. I dialled a few numbers and just barely watched my show with my 1/3 open eyes. Soon enough time wallowed away and other people had also successfully clome out of bed and plopped themselves on a couch to watch TV. Well while watching TV around 8:30ish a loud thud penetrated the mind of moi and I thought nothing of it at first but instinctively turned my head around. What do I see lying belly-side-up on my deck? A chickadee! (Okay you should be able to put two and two together now). I get up in a sheer state of shock watching this poor helpless little bird hyperventilate. I then in a heartbeat open the slider-door and close the screen door behind me. Now crouched down a mere 3 inches away from this poor little guy, I vigorously try to conceptualize a way to prop the bird upright. I then power walk down the deck stairs and collect two pretty crunchy looking leaves and go over to the chickadee and stand him upright. At that moment I felt pretty good, but I wasn't done saving this little bird. Obviously something was still wrong with the bird because it let me sit wicked close to it. I slowly reach my hand out and with my index finger stroke the back of the bird's head. The soft sensation, felt like a soft, silky piece of satin. The beak of this bird has now been open for roughly 5 minutes (the elapsed so far). I could tell it was still hyperventilating. Suddenly the bird motioned it's head to the right, then to the left and was trying to fathom where it was. In the next few moments I knew it was going to be okay, and I was right. It flew away a slim 6 inches away from me. I stood up and as I was walking inside I heard a chirp. I turned around and it was the same chickadee on the bird-feeder thanking me. After that event I felt overly good about myself, I mean who wouldn't right? It goes to show, um, well I don't know. Today I found two four-leafed clovers.
My favorite part of this is the last sentence. For the length of the post you are telling of your epic encounter with a half-dead bird, and all of a sudden you say, with lots of gusto, might I add, "Today I found two four-leafed clovers." I don't know why I found that so hysterical, but I did.
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