My feathery furriend Scrubby is on the fence beyond my window. She's jreeing hello.
Scrubby, aka Ms. Jay, chose not to disappear after dog-ma released her. I guess she'd like us to put a door in the window so she can come in fur meals. I think she's going to have babies, judging from how big and round she is.
Too bad Ms. Jay couldn't eat her special meal while she was staying with us. Dog-ma made exactly what veterinarian Dr. Jona Jordan suggested.
But Scrubby was in too much shock to eat. Last evening, she nearly suffered a horrible death, hung upside down by her leg, swinging from a tree branch. A tangled bracelet of fish-net plastic around her left ankle had become a lethal handcuff.
Thank dogness that, just before dark, a pair of anxious birds nearby caught our attention with their frantic cries. Tilin Corgi and I hailed dog-ma, who came running with a tall ladder.
We watched dog-ma lean the ladder against the tree, pull on a pair of gloves, and turn on a flashlight. She climbed quickly.
We held our breath as she stretched out her hands to the Scrub Jay. She embraced the bird with her right hand, holding her fairly immobile as she broke off branches around the bird's leg with her left hand. We hated seeing how twisted the Jay's leg was. What a long, tense minute. We feared the leg would crumple or pop out of the hip socket.
Suddenly dog-ma was descending with Scrubby safe in hand. I noticed that Scrubby had put the bite on dog-ma's right index finger and wasn't lettin' go. Smart bird. We followed them into the house. Dog-ma closed the home office door behind her to talk to Scrubby in private.
I heard dog-ma gently whisper, "Hold on, Scrubby. Just a bit more. Argh, that horrible plastic is hard to cut. . . . Okay, you're free now."
After a while I heard fluttering — the sounds of Scrubby flyin' around the room till she settled on a pawsition on top of the bookshelf, a good place to hide and roost.
Dog-ma came out of the room and told us that our new furriend was resting. Off to the kitchen shuffled dog-ma, sadly wailing something about cruelty to animals.
We took comfort in what Dr. Jordan had said about The Bird Rescue Center being a good place fur Ms. Jay to get well. Dog-ma planned to take her there, and to ask the rescuers if we could release our furriend back home here when she was well.
Pawsitive thoughts allowed us to sleep through the night.
We were awakened at 7 o'clock by our Siamese, who jumped up in the air with surprise. We saw that she was listening hard to something — a repeating thumping sound.
We all jumped out of bed and ran to the office room. Dog-ma opened the door slightly and the sound got louder. She slipped into the room, closing the door behind her.
Sitting outside, I smiled. I could tell that Scrubby was awake and energized. The sounds were comin' from her attempts to break through the glass window to freedom!
In a low voice, dog-ma exclaimed, "You, you can stand on both legs! . . . How could this be possible?"
Scrubby just continued jumping at the window.
After a couple of minutes, dog-ma declared, "Dear sweet amazing bird, I'm going to set you free!"
And so she did.
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