How I Didn't Save a Bird

I never saw a wild thing sorry for itself.

A small bird will drop frozen dead from a bough

Without ever having felt sorry for itself.
-- D.H. Lawrence

Unlike the time I made a hummingbird feeder with a styrofoam cup, labelling stickers, a red marker and Gatorade laced with sugar to save a hummingbird; unlike the time I caught a bird out of mid air with a garbage bag, and unlike the time I caught a parakeet barehanded and took it to a pet store in Brooklyn, this weekend, I did not save a bird. I went to Lib's cousin's graduation party, and not long after we arrived, her aunt, a mother of four young girls, came inside because they had all witnessed a bird fly into the window. The girls were concerned, and the bird, seemingly less concerned, was walking around the patio in a daze. It's wing was broken, but it looked fine, unless it tried to fly. Her aunt asked me if what was going to happen, and I said, "One of two things: either it's not as bad as it seems, or..." and then I saw four little pairs of hopeful, concerned eyes staring up at me, and Lib's mother interjected, "It will fly back to it's mother, right?" I went with it, but her aunt kept pushing me for the truth, and I kept saying it would probably fly away because the girls were right there, but as hard as Lib's mom and I gave her the look that adults give each other when they are trying to lie to children, she just kept pushing me until finally, I had to walk over and say in her ear, "It's going to die" without the girls hearing me. So I decided to "release" the bird by throwing it over a privacy fence into the woods. The girls followed me out, and I told them they should name the bird before we "released" it into the wild; in a tributary gesture for my efforts, the eldest said we should name it Eric. So I dubbed it Eric and perched it on top of the fence where it quickly rolled off the other side into the forest. And as grateful as everyone was, I had the privilege of knowing that my namesake would be dead before sunrise the next day, and I felt sorry for myself.