"I just saved your life. Why are you so grumpy." - Me.
I am starting to feel like Ace Ventura. I have been coming across animals that need my help (See Part One of this story). Most recently I was spending my Sunday gardening and playing with our dogs in the yard. We live next to an old church, and they have their lawn cut bi-weekly. Around 11 am or so before they get started with their service the lawn-keeper comes and makes sure the grass looks good for the parishioners. I was done gardening for the day, so I decided to head back in so Jamie and I could get our mimosa on.
I was on our porch and heard a faint "cheep" come from somewhere on the churches lawn. The roar of the riding lawn mower started somewhere in the distance, so I knew the lawn-keeper was on his way. I started looking around the yard stumbled upon a little grumpy bird sitting in the grass. I gave him my best "Hey, get the hell out of here; I don't want you to get run over by a lawnmower" juke attempt, but he called my bluff and continued to sit there. I stared at him for a while, and he stared right back. I blinked first; he was good.
I did a quick internet search of what to do with an injured bird. What I found was don't touch him, put him in a paper bag or shoe box and leave him alone after. Seems easy; I can do this. I went for the search of a paper bag as lawnmower man rounded the corner of the church and was making his way towards my helpless, grumpy friend. I jumped off the porch, paper bag in hand, and leaped in front of the lawn keeper waving my arms like a moron to prevent him from blending this grumpy little guy into a bird smoothie.
We got the bird into the paper bag and left him alone. The internet also told me to leave the bag open and check on him in an hour to see if it flew away. Which, an hour later, he flew away but not before pooping in the bag and on my porch. He was a little bastard.