You can imagine my apprehension when my husband walked through the door last night and asked me how my new friend was doing (I had advised him earlier he had to be particularly nice to me given my robin window strike episode).  I had some errands to run after dinner but in the back of my head I wondered, “Would Ryan swiftly deal with my friend’s suffering?”  I took one last peak at “Robbie” and slipped out the backdoor.

It was dark when I made it back home.  Ryan had been glued to his laptop all evening and remembered my angst only when I swept passed him on my way to the blinds.  Robbie was still there but he was now sitting on a nearby rock.  There was still hope.  As I was getting ready for bed, Ryan ran into the room exclaiming, “Come look, he can fly”.  Oh, our little baby found his wings!  Ryan and I were ecstatic.

Back in the kitchen this morning I heeded all precautions.  Since Robbie’s friends contributed to two earlier morning thuds (although much softer dive bombs than Robbie’s), it was time to bring on the gift-wrap.  I cannot imagine what our neighbors think, “what are they doing decorating their house with Christmas paper in July?”  Alternatively (thanks to Jered Seward), check out http://www.sialis.org/windowstrikes.htm for more preventative measures and what to do in the event of a stunned bird.   According to this site, window strikes kill between 100 million and 1 billion birds in North America each year!

No more injuries by my windows!  Oh happy day in my Toggle office.

I love working from home; well, until today.  Just as I logged in to get a head start on emails, there was a big thud.  I ran to the window to see a robin all shaken up, on my deck.  I think it is a daddy robin (no red tummy and not a baby).  Well, after a few moments of holding its mouth wide open, it hobbled over to the tree where its friends hang out.  Does that mean he will be okay?  Did he break his jaw?  Darn window, why did I wash it yesterday?

You know, I have always had an oversensitive place in my heart for animals.  I must confess I could never watch “Lassie” and to this day (don’t tell my kids), I cannot watch Bambi.  The moment I see smoke coming out of the forest, I know something bad is going to happen, and I don’t want to know the rest.  Something about an innocent animal suffering is beyond my coping mechanisms.

Today has been pure agony.  What do I do?  What should I do?  I cannot pretend it didn’t happen.  I swear the birdies are actually crying for their distressed little buddy.  And when I take a break from staring at my laptop, I have to peek through the blinds.  Every time my hopes are dashed; the poor soul has not moved in over 10 hours!   Whom I think is his lover or whatever you call them in the avian kingdom, keeps coming over to him with food and then flies away. Will she eventually leave him?  Is he hurting?  How long will this go on?  I hate this.  I mean really, it is just a bird and I have enough work to keep myself distracted.  But alas, even after pulling the blinds down and smearing mud on the window (so they know it is an impenetrable surface), I have no relief.  Thank goodness we don’t have any cats!

I will be working from the basement tomorrow.