I had just shuffled my way to the bathroom at 6:45 am yesterday morning. And yes, I kind of shuffle, as my feet are usually a little stiff after having slept for the night.

I had just finished expressing Gidget’s bladder (common when you have a dog with IVDD) and was glad it was now my turn.

Half way through my sprinkle and Gidget off to wait by her food bowl, I heard John say, “Barb, come here right away!  You have to see this!”

So much for a full sprinkle. I jumped up from the throne, my eyes still half-mast and my hair sticking up in a few places and into the kitchen I went.

“What is it?”

He grabbed me by the hand and led me out the front door. “It’s the strangest thing,” he said.

Luckily I had thrown on a pair of shorts with my t-shirt I normally sleep in — or that would have been the strangest thing for the neighbors to see.

A storm had just passed through and the grass was soaked as I walked on my tip-toes and John guided me over to the birch tree, still holding my hand.

I could see something in the grass, but couldn’t make out what it was.

“What is it?” I said, worried it was something icky.

Just as we got closer I saw them.

Four soaking wet little birds. They weren’t really baby birds anymore, but a bit bigger.

“Are they alive?” I said.

John said, “I’m not sure.”

Their eyes were wide open, but they weren’t blinking and not moving a feather, leaning up against one another, sticking straight up in the grass.

Looking up into the tree I said, “They must have been blown out of their nest.” Though I wasn’t able to see a nest.

Still not sure they were alive, I bent over closer to look at them and pointed my index finger toward them.

“Don’t touch them!” John said.

“I know. I know. I won’t.”

But as my finger got closer, all of a sudden all four beaks opened. They thought perhaps I was their mama coming to feed them.

I was relieved they were alive.

“They must be in shock from being blown out of their nest,” I said.

John agreed.

I was worried about the little ones, but knew from a phone call to my dad’s wife who serves on wildlife committees, that the DNR wouldn’t do come help them out.

So I had to wait and watch and hope they’d be okay.

Just then, a drenched stray orange striped tabby cat appeared across the street.

Good Lord, I thought. He will find them and eat them for breakfast. Luckily he headed south, likely looking for somewhere to dry off or I would have been the wild-haired, sleepy-eyed neighbor lady running the cat off down the street.

Little by little, each bird began to shake off the raindrops on their wings and began hopping about in the grass. I was relieved but still worried. They also began to spread their wings and attempt short flying trips.

I checked on them periodically and the last time I looked a few moments later, they were gone.

Hopefully they made it out into the world okay.

As for me, I finished my morning sprinkle and after all the excitement my eyes were now wide open too.

Thank you for visiting. If you’d like receive my journal posts, you can subscribe here today.