On Life and Death

            My back yard is my personal oasis.  I share it with my dog, Lily, who considers it her own personal paradise, romping around without a leash and jumping into her doggy pool on hot summer days.  I have spent countless hours and a great deal of energy, planting flowers and tending to the flowerbeds and grass weekly.  I divide this job between the front and back yards on varying days in order not to wear myself out too much.  It’s a labor of love and neighborhood pride.

            One of my favorite things to do is sit on the stairs in my backyard and watch the various birds come and go.  This week, I had a very pretty female bird who was possibly a female cardinal arrive and stay.  She was hopping around in my grass and not moving much when I was in the yard. 

            From what I understand of bird behavior, which isn’t much I admit, this wasn’t a good sign.  She was probably sick and/or dying.  My dog Lily isn’t aggressive with other animals and being a gentle soul, she approached the bird slowly and submissively.  Her attitude and behavior towards the bird was sincere curiosity, as she likes to sniff bird’s scent as she wanders the yard.  I believe she thinks herself as part bloodhound.  I made her keep her distance from the bird for worry of passing illness.

            This sweet ladybird wasn’t too concerned with either of us.  I kept speaking to her, asking if she was in need of anything and if I could help her while reassuring that I wouldn’t harm her in any way.  I attempted to capture her with the thought of getting her to a vet or bird sanctuary, but she avoided me at every move.  Finally, I was able to chase her into one of my flowerbeds to keep her out of the Lily’s path.  Once in the flowers, under a pussy willow and evergreen, I thought she would be safe and hopefully would fly off.

            Later in the afternoon, I went outside to take the dog out.  She ran about the yard in her usual fashion.  I went over to the flowerbed and saw that the ladybird had departed.  A wave of relief came over me.  I thought that she had recovered and flown away.  How wrong I was.  Lily went to a different corner of the yard and started to react to something.  I walked over and saw the sweet ladybird snuggled down in the grass.  She had walked through my flowerbed around the yard and wound up on the other side.  Once again, I spoke to her, keeping Lily away.  I pet her head gently, which she allowed, looking up at me with quiet eyes.  I told her I wouldn’t let the dog disturb her, that I was concerned for her welfare and pet her once again.  Her soft feathers were a surprise.  I have never touched a wild bird before.  She felt as soft as my Himalayan cat’s fur, which was super fine and very thick.

            I swiftly escorted Lily back into the house and left the ladybird alone granting her peace.  Another two hours passed and it was time for bed. I let the dog out for the last time in the evening and walked over to where we had left the ladybird earlier.  I couldn’t see her so I got a flashlight out.  It was then that I saw her, laying on her right side with her left wing extended and up in the air.  She had passed away.  My heart sank.

            In order to protect ladybird’s remains, I fetched a shoebox and gently placed her in a paper towel inside of it.  I placed the shoebox in the safety of my outdoor fireplace for protection.  My plan was to bury her the following morning, placing her remains in my flower garden. 

            This gentle bird had chosen my yard for her passing.  I honored that by burying her under a rose bush and marking her grave with a metal blue flower.  She will remain protected, given a special place to rest in my oasis.