Tuesday.

I had no idea what to title this blog post, so we'll just go with the day of the week.

Thing 1 (my new nickname for our son since I don't really want to use his real name. I've also come up with Boy Shaw) is doing great in his big boy bed. Its very comfy and a nice place to take naps too.

So last Friday, we had a little incident. Well, it was kind of major in my world. Not a lot happens when you are a stay at home mom so any event that is out of the ordinary, is big. Anyway, Thing 1 and I were watching cartoons on the couch when I heard this big thud. Now, in the man cave or family room, or living room (I don't know what the proper wording is for this room) we have two large windows, and two large glass doors that lead to the backyard. Once in a blue moon, a bird will think its water and run into the doors or windows. Figured it was that but got up to check anyway.

And what do I find? My Madeline (kitty #1) with a mouth FULL of feathers, trying to sneak her ass in through the doggy door. I freaked. I screamed. I kicked at her and shoved her back outside with my foot. Then I closed the doggy door and screamed some more. She had a huge Dove in her mouth. Then she dropped it and it was still alive! GAH! Motherf*cker!!!! &*^$%*!!! Bleep! Bleep! Bleep bleep bleep! Feathers everywhere!!

To make a really long, boring story short, I called my vet, who gave me a number, then that number gave me a number, and so on and so on until I had literally called about 10 people trying to find someone to take this fucking bird. Its not even a special kind of bird. There were about 3 more outside on the fence watching this all taking place. Last time I checked, there was no shortage of Doves in the lower 48.  I finally found a woman not too far from us who rescues (yes, rescues!) birds when things like this happen. The thing was still alive and had a broken wing, what was I supposed to do?? Yes, I know, I clearly have a heart of gold. But I wasn't about to break its neck (like some facebook friends suggested) or cook it (like other friends suggested) or let nature takes it course. Because then eventually, I'd have to pick up the bird I let die, and throw it away.

So Mike (who happened to be coming home for lunch that day) scooped the thing up in a box and Thing 1 and I took the bird to this lady's house. Just to give you a clue, she had a Pigeon sitting in a cage on her front porch. A real one. A rat of the sky she was trying to nurse back to health.

I was honestly planning on calling after the weekend to see how the bird was, and then I remembered I really don't care that much now that it is out of my hands and I physically don't have to look at it.

Heart. Of. Gold.