11.19.

2010
“Thank You for Caring”

Hurrying past the thick, double doors; I hardly noticed the small grey bird huddled in the corner.
Bending down to take a closer look, the bird buried his head in his feathers, trying to take cover. Thinking that
the bird just wanted to rest, I walked into the inviting warmth of Blind Brook High School.

To be honest, the bird seldom crossed my mind while I was in class. The only time I thought about him
was after hearing snatches of conversation.

"The bird..."
"Yea-did you see that?"
"It's a pigeon..."

A thought passed through my mind as to why the pigeon would still be crouched at the front doors of my
school, a heavily trafficked place. I never saw the pigeon again when school let out. Taking the back door to the
football field, the small, huddled bird was still at the back of my mind. The only thing that I could think about
was how I was so crazy for ever agreeing to stay two hours after school to watch my friend play football. In the
freezing cold.

My ever busy mind led me to wander around the school in order to escape the biting cold. I was with a
friend and we happened to run into my vice-principal. We started to talk about the bird and why it had stayed at
the school for so long. After an urgent text from my football-playing friend, we went back down to the field
since practice had let out early.

Making our way to the front of the school, we briefly made out a small, grey mass that had settled in the
corner of the building. Realizing it was the pigeon from earlier this morning, we started to make some calls to
wildlife rehabilitators. We all knew it was odd behavior for an animal to stay in one place for so long. After
calling a couple of places that were too far away, we got a wildlife rehabilitation center that would take the
pigeon immediately. It was also just five minutes away from our current location.

Worried that the small bird would freeze if it didn’t get someplace warm, we put together a makeshift
shelter. Using a box we took from our main office and my jacket to cushion the bird, I gently picked the pigeon
up, holding his wings so that in case he panicked he wouldn’t fly away. After the pigeon was situated
comfortably in the cardboard box, we took it inside the foyer and placed it next to the heater.
 We waited for my friend’s mother to pick us up, all the time worrying that something drastic would
happen to the pigeon. As soon as I got the call from Jill, the bird rehabilitator, with her address, we were forced
to sit for an excruciating five minutes. Finally, after what seemed a lifetime, my friend’s mother arrived and we
all hustled to the car, making sure the pigeon wouldn’t be jostled.

Driving down the highway, the ride seemed to take longer than anticipated. Finally arriving at the
designated address, we hurried to get the pigeon inside. Ignoring the cold, since I had no jacket, we rushed to
the door of the house and deposited the pigeon on the first table we saw.

Jill had many other birds in her house and was kind enough to show us around. She took the time to
explain to us how to handle the birds and why they couldn’t be released back into the wild. Jill also told us the
stories of many of her animals. After getting the pigeon, whom we had named Bob because of the way he
moved his head, comfortable we attempted to put some food and water in his system.

Relaxing, only after he had eaten, we were shown where Jill kept her other rescues. She had a couple of
other pigeons which she kept in her house while they were recovering, and a more permanent residence for
those who had been nursed back to health. She was waiting until it got warmer to re-release them.

Jill had a small building in her backyard which she devoted to the birds that could fly. They had an
outdoor enclosure and during the night they were kept safe inside the shed. She also had a pond devoted to the
ducks and geese she had rescued. Her actions and feelings impressed me and I thought of her with the utmost
respect. She had devoted her life to caring for others, and didn’t expect anything in return.

As we exited her house I remember the last words she spoke to us, “Thank you for caring.” I realized
that although I took my actions, and those of my friends, for granted, there were many more people in the world
who wouldn’t have taken a second glance at Bob. With almost five hundred students at the high school, the last
ones to leave, which had been me and my friends, were the only ones who cared enough to help a helpless bird.

So thank you Jill, thank you for caring.