Baby Bird Metaphor

I can't say I really noticed there was a nest under Gambit's tree till this evening, when I needed to find it.  See, it's spring and part of the course of nature is baby birds.  Baby birds who soon start to learn to fly and sometimes, it seems, they fall.  Right into the clutches of my dog who's doing her thing – in this case taking advantage of easy prey.  Other birds, bigger and more experienced, can fly away.  I'm not sure how it came to be but the girls informed me of a bird, a baby bird, twitching in our yard and to be honest, I'm just not brave enough to face something like that.  Figuring since E was a former boy scout, he'd be able to figure something out beyond leaving the poor thing as puppy snack and he actually brought it into the house and it kinda freaked me out.  I don't know what to do for a bird, I have dinner I'm trying cook and then the truth hits me.  I'm scared of the bird and what it represents.

The baby bird metaphor.  This isn't my first run in with one since back when E was in the military the Elfling and I once came across the queerest sight of a form with a beak and nearly transparent skin.  I honestly don't remember much in the way of feathers but it was a very recently hatched bird that somehow found its way to my parking spot.  I managed to scoop it up and put it in a small container and in our area, we had a local bird sanctuary that said they'd take it.  It was such a relief to put the bird into hands that knew far more than me as to what to do and my report when I left was that it was had actually eaten some.  I don't know whatever became of that bird but I do like to think that it went on be fine.

This bird today reminded me how fragile it was.  How fragile life is and in the end, it seems, how fragile I can be.  The nest, as I said, was in Gambit's tree where we buried him when he died about a year ago.  To be honest, I still have a lot of guilt about not seeing sooner how sick he was, that I was too late to get him well.  I don't know how this plays in the grand scope of this post but a year later and I still miss him dearly.

I think this bird represents just how thin, how frayed the rope of my nerves can be.  You would think having a blog would be an outlet for what goes on but I've found the more depressed I am, the closer I hold it in.  It only took one thing – one more worry and responsibility for me to snap for the night.  I cried because it scared me, the thought of having this creature die in my backyard, to know it was vulnerable to my dog which is like me withering under the blanket I try to smother my feelings in.  I think, even now, if I could exchange my life so that it could go on, I would.  At least then I'd not failed at it.  At something.