Full of Egrets

I’m in no way an animal lover. But it doesn’t stop there. My sister consistently mocks me. She claims I even hate animal movies. I’ll admit, I like the occasional puppy-very cute, or a luminous fish, but anyone that knows me, knows I’m no horse whisperer. This is amusing because while I was walking yesterday, I found myself putting Jack Hanna to shame.
It’s true. I was caught rescuing an egret from a torturous, glass encased bus stop. It was where Columbus meets Nebraska Avenue, across from the door and paint store. As I approached with my power walking mentality, popping a bounce in my step to “Video killed the Radio Star,” I stopped in my tracks to see there was this bird. And the poor thing kept running itself into the glass. It would knock its head up against one side of the boxed-in area and then the other. This occurred several times. I couldn’t help myself; I looked around to see if the Kratt brothers were nearby, but to no avail not even Zaboomafoo could help.
I know what you’re thinking-how does a non-animal lover even know about those zany brothers, but you don’t get to be a super fab auntie to some way cutie nephews without a little research, so there!
So yeah, I was to be the one-the chosen one to help the bird out. I knew just what it was thinking, and as crazy as it sounds, maybe some of what it was feeling. The bird, (we’ll call him Theo), clearly saw what was ahead but didn’t grasp the understanding of a glass wall. Try as he may to head in the direction it saw as clear, he was not going anywhere. I stood there, trying to talk to it. Yeah picture this. “Come here little gipper.” Then motioning, “Over here, this is the way out.” It must have been completely hysterical to the man sitting in the Dodge Neon a few inches away. When I looked at him he was cracking up. But no time for traffic onlookers, the bird was panicking. I mean Theo, Theo was panicking. My voice did not ease Theo’s anxiety, if he heard me at all. His wings were flapping wildly and he was getting trapped further under the bench.
Then I realized that if I headed to the other side of the glass the path wouldn’t be clear anymore. This way Theo would no longer see heading toward the glass as an option. And guess what? It worked, or maybe it was fear of me coming after it that frightened him to leave the bus stop and thus pursue other transportation routes. Either way, I couldn’t get over this clear parallel to my life. It made me think how creative and humorous God must be that he would use this little frightened creature to teach me about myself.
I think so boldly sometimes, with pride and a little determination even, knowing where I’m heading, only to find it’s not working. I related to the frustration of trying over and over again and failing. Here I was calling the bird to myself out of care for it. Longing with compassion for it to see the best option, but it had a mind of its own, a mission of it’s own that was a dead end.
I think sometimes I stubbornly repeat the same actions, ultimately injuring myself, because I don’t see God, stop to listen, or consider that he wants the best for me. Funny, who would of thought there was compassion for animals hidden somewhere deep inside me, as if a ticket tucked in my pocket. I guess if the bus is late you should try flying!