We found one of
the blue jay's babies on the ground under the nest. She was breathing but barely. I wrapped her in a napkin and set her in an old Christmas card box and Jeff drove to the emergency vet that's open on Sunday. They told him that they only treat dogs and cats and gave him some other numbers and addresses to try. As Jeff drove around making calls, he watched the little bird in the box. Her eyes were closed. Soon he could tell she had stopped breathing. He drove her back home.
We still hadn't scattered
Pearl's ashes and I had been keeping
Stella's ashes in a little silver box for the last ten years, never really ready to deal with whatever comes next. Finally, something about the little jay's passing made this the right time. At Bob's request, we would be having a memorial service for the baby bird. We let him know that at the same time we would be scattering some "special memory dirt" to remember the other pets.
We picked a spot under the yellow rose bush on the side of the house for the burial and Jeff's dug a hole. He said the Kaddish, the Jewish prayer of mourning. He lit the
Rainbow Bridge candle the vet gave us when Pearl died. Bob and I decorated the tiny grave. "I know that the little bird never got to fly on earth but I hope she'll fly now. I miss Stella and Pearl everyday," I said.
"Bob? Do you want to say anything?" Jeff said.
"Yeah. That candle smells like gummy fruit snacks."
"Amen, everyone."
