Baby Bird
When I first found this baby bird, it was lying on the ground with a broken wing. Now, after four weeks of care and shelter and hand feeding, it’s ready to fly away on its own. And I can’t believe how ungrateful it is!
Seriously, not one thank you. Never a single word of gratitude or any small acknowledgment of all the hard work I put in. Without me, that stupid little shit would still be fluttering around at the base of that tree. No, worse; it’d be in the belly of some tabby.
All the time and energy to help this songbird heal—it all went unappreciated. I made a newspaper nest; I crafted a splint out of index cards and bendy straws; I even mashed up worms from my flowerbox. You know what I got back? Nothing. All I got was a view of some tail feathers flying away.
Goddamnit, you put yourself out there. You care for someone. It never comes back. I beginning to think this whole idea of reciprocity just doesn’t exist. I mean, it’s not like I was looking for a hand-written notes or a muffin basket. It’s a bird.
But, just a nod. Maybe a tip of its bird head. Something to show that it understood how much work I did. Nope. Nothing.
Wait, what’s this? He’s flying back to me! My little bird is coming back to say thank you! Come back to me, Bird! Come back. I forgive you.
Oh, never mind, it’s just a crow. You fooled me again, Songbird. You fooled me again. Jerk.
