The bird looked pained – my friend carried a similar expression

The bird had his rest, my friend had her chocolate, I had my sleep, all was okay

Troubled by his ordeal, the bird rests  on the balcony  to recover. Photograph: iStock

Troubled by his ordeal, the bird rests on the balcony to recover. Photograph: iStock

 
This summer, The Irish Times will offer tips, advice and information for parents on how to help their children thrive during the holiday months. Read all about it at  irishtimes.com/summeroffamily

I was lying comfortably in bed, on the cusp of sleep, my tummy warm, my thoughts turning to nonsense, when I was disturbed by the most unholy roar coming from the kitchen.

My friend was staying for the week but, as is my way, I had retired to bed much before her. It was bright out and she was in the kitchen typing. It was such an ungodly roar that I wondered whether to dress before running to the rescue, or if more urgent attention was required. Startled, I threw on my dressing gown and tumbled into the kitchen, sorry to leave my dreamworld.

I found her in the corner shaking.

In the other corner, was a bird. A crow, I think. Black, and medium-sized. His wing had been caught in the kitchen door and he was stuck. The bird was quiet. He didn’t squawk or flap his free wing, but this in itself was worrying. He looked pained. And my friend carried a similar expression.

Now, I really don’t like to be disturbed from my sleep. A bad night’s sleep is a guaranteed bad head the following day, but there are times when you have to make exceptions, and if you had seen the pitiful look on my friend’s face as she cowered in the corner, you too would have risen.

My friend was too scared to open the door in case the bird flew into the kitchen. I was a little less concerned by this prospect; I grew up in a household where a disproportionate amount of our time was spent armed with tea towels attempting to shoo flustered birds through the kitchen door and out the skylight windows. You would be forgiven for mistaking our kitchen for a bird sanctuary run by my harried dad. Drawing from my many years of experience, I decided that flying into the kitchen was still a better outcome for the bird than having a wing caught in the kitchen door.

It was a big creature causing my friend distress. And the big creature was in distress and this was even more distressing

Last time my friend stayed, she let out a similar squeal upon finding a moth in the bedroom (she’s not a fan of most non-human creatures). I turned off the bedroom light (it was dark out this time; we had stayed up late), and the moth fell to the floor. I scooped him up in newspaper and placed him out the window. He flew off. We brushed our teeth and went to bed.

But this time we were in the kitchen and it was a big creature causing my friend distress. And the big creature was in distress and this was even more distressing.

I hugged my friend and set about the business of the bird.

It wasn’t so hard. I opened the door to the balcony and the bird flew to a nearby perch. He seemed troubled by the previous event, and stayed a while on the perch to recover. “Is he okay?” my friend fretted. “He’s fine,” I said, “I think he just got a fright. He needs a little rest. Why don’t you sit down?” She went to find some chocolate and we searched online if there was anything the bird might like to eat. Apples. But I don’t eat them. So, we just let him rest.

I inspected the bird for blood from a distance and found none. There were no obvious injuries. We waited a while and observed him. He stayed on the perch and caught his breath. The sky was turning from pink to blue. Eventually, the bird began to slowly lift his wings before propelling himself suddenly into flight. He continued at great speed past Croke Park stadium and over a row of little red brick houses until he was no longer in sight. His wing appeared to be in working order.

My friend was relieved and I was relieved and I could go back to bed and back to my dreaming.

The next day, I woke up and my friend was still asleep. I went into the kitchen and it was quiet. The sun had risen and it was a clear day. There were a few birds twittering outside.

I checked the balcony, where the bird sat the night before; there was no sign of damage. I checked the couch, where my friend sat, the night before; there was no sign of damage.

The bird had had his rest, my friend had had her chocolate, I had had my sleep and we were all okay.

Sometimes, that’s the case.

The Irish Times Logo
Commenting on The Irish Times has changed. To comment you must now be an Irish Times subscriber.
SUBSCRIBE
GO BACK
Error Image
The account details entered are not currently associated with an Irish Times subscription. Please subscribe to sign in to comment.
Comment Sign In

Forgot password?
The Irish Times Logo
Thank you
You should receive instructions for resetting your password. When you have reset your password, you can Sign In.
The Irish Times Logo
Please choose a screen name. This name will appear beside any comments you post. Your screen name should follow the standards set out in our community standards.
Screen Name Selection

Hello

Please choose a screen name. This name will appear beside any comments you post. Your screen name should follow the standards set out in our community standards.

The Irish Times Logo
Commenting on The Irish Times has changed. To comment you must now be an Irish Times subscriber.
SUBSCRIBE
Forgot Password
Please enter your email address so we can send you a link to reset your password.

Sign In

Your Comments
We reserve the right to remove any content at any time from this Community, including without limitation if it violates the Community Standards. We ask that you report content that you in good faith believe violates the above rules by clicking the Flag link next to the offending comment or by filling out this form. New comments are only accepted for 3 days from the date of publication.