#315: The Warbler

This one from Corey brought tears to my eyes. And reminded me of some ruminations I had this past weekend. I was driving for about 15 minutes on the highway and couldn't believe how much roadkill I passed. Each racoon, squirrel, or opossum I saw caused me to look away and wince. With my spirits immediately feeling lower I thought to myself how I was ridiculous for feeling so much for these little creatures I hadn't even had any connection to. I was wondering if I am just too much of a "feeler" and figured it's my own issue for even caring and letting myself get upset about the things in the world that are out of my control. But reading this note from Corey brought a wave of peace and greater hope for humanity that I am not alone in these feelings and in having deep compassion for animals. Even if they are not always mine to save. Thank you Corey for sharing this story and for leading with empathy. 

- Amanda  

The Warbler

He was hurt when I found him. A man from the store was bent down, seeing if there were some way to help the little bird. The man told me I looked like an animal lover, and asked me if I knew anything about birds. I didn't. But that didn't stop me from taking him home with me in a small cardboard box to see if there was something I could do.

The little Warbler was in bad shape to begin with, and he didn't look any better when we got home. It was clear he was in pain. I have very minor real life experience in first aid: cuts and scrapes, and a few sprained ankles — and only with humans. I fashioned a brace for him, but he wouldn't hold still long enough for me to get it on him. And he was too small for it, anyway. Deep down, I had a feeling he was beyond help.

I found a Wildlife rehab center and drove him there. After showing him to a nurse, she confirmed the worst. The best thing was to allow her to help the Warbler pass peacefully. I felt deeply sad knowing that this was the end of his story, but at the same, honored to be a caring witness for him as he went through the process of passing. I said goodbye, and spoke a prayer for his soul to peacefully rejoin the lifestream.

It really sticks with me that how I thought I was called to help the bird was not the way I was able to. It wasn’t for me to heal him; that was beyond my power. But I was able to do a couple things perhaps just as profound — feel compassion for him, care for him, and be fully present with him, in the moments we had together. My time with the Warbler reminds me that I cannot help everyone I meet along the way. But I can always be kind.