Love is a Thing With Feathers

A fledgling robin fell on our front steps. Perhaps she left the nest prematurely and wasn't strong enough to fly. One of my nestlings left the nest too early. I empathize. Maybe the bird was a casualty of a vagrant wind. I lost two daughters in utero to cruel nature. I empathize there too. We didn't precisely rescue her--she was injured and not going to make it. But we found a spot for her to spend her last moments quietly. And she thanked us by allowing us to pet her. Read onLove is a Lovely Little Thing With Feathers
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