Hitchcock.

Fall is almost here, I can see the leaves changing, and it rained for most of the day. I like how on days like this the clouds become so big and dark. It adds many dimensions to the every day lull. This morning I woke up and Hitchcock had died. He was a dove Nadya and I found on our back porch, I think he must have been attacked by one of the neighbor cats. I was just smoking a cigarette like I usually do, and there he was just sitting at the base of the porch all crippled and sad looking. I was struck with a moral dilemma, and couldn't really decide if I should just leave him there, or take him in and try to revive him. Nadya came out and I showed her, and she instantly brought it food and wanted to help. After that it was an easy decision because obviously we were going to try to help. So, we found a box and made a bed for him, put a dish with bird feed and some water. Honestly for a while there it seemed like he was doing so much better, he was cooing, and sitting up properly, and I actually felt like even though it was so little, I was doing something good. I came up with the name Hitchcock, like in the director of the famous movie about birds. Nadya liked it so it stuck. Yesterday he wasn't doing so well, and so we decided to take him to a animal shelter nearby and see if they could help, but yesterday was Sunday and these places are closed on Sunday. So we were going to take him today, but when I saw him this morning he was laying dead in his makeshift home/box. I honestly felt terrible, because he didn't make it. In a short amount of time, I felt I had a bit of a bond with that little birds life.