Put the hooker in the box, and the bird in the closet.
No, wait. I think Charlie Sheen said ‘Put the hooker in the closet‘.
Ok, then the bird should go in the box. Got it. Good thing, too, since the closet is quiet full of my clothes and skeletons.
There's hardly enough room for the skeletons, let alone hookers.
As many of you may know, I have a penchant for rescuing wounded things. Birds. Mammals. Men. One might assume that while driving around the country I would not have as much opportunity for rescuing wounded beings.
Sadly, no. Like moths to a flame, they seem to find me wherever I am on the planet.
They may leave for a brief period to temp the fate of being eaten by a hawk or to join the circus. And when I say one left to join the circus, believe it or not I am NOT referring to one of the rescued animals. One now-ex-boyfriend actually left for a brief period with the intention of joining the circus.
!!!
I couldn’t make this stuff up if I tried.
But almost all eventually come back. He has not, but then again he didn’t make it to the circus either. Although, I’m not sure where he is these days so he may very well have joined the circus by now.
I seem to attract (and be attracted to?) the kindhearted albeit wounded male. How can one not to be attracted to a kind heart? As for the wounded part, I want to make them healthy (through eating well and taking plenty of vitamins) and happy. I generally succeed with those brave-enough to tolerate and even appreciate my healthy regimen. They get to stay if they treat me with kindness, generosity, and affection.
But I digress.
It seems these wounded beings easily find me. I must give off a scent that screams: “A rescuer of the wounded is in close proximity, commence showcasing your injury.”
*sigh*
This week I rescued a wounded gull. And quite possible helped a kind, but brokenhearted man.
I found the gull on the side of the highway, unable to completely fold one wing or fly. I found the man in the campground, with a handsome but sad face. In either case, I didn’t have to go far. (See above reference to giving off a scent.)
Although both were a bit apprehensive, neither one struggled when I moved to help. A very good sign.
I put the bird in the box. What happens with the man has yet to be determined.
Not a closet.
The back of his head. Sparky the Bird is apparently rather camera shy.
What the photo above this one should look like.
The bird was delivered to the local wildlife rescue facility and shortly released. It seems all he needed was a quiet night in a safe place to collect his thoughts. Let’s just hope he didn’t run off to join the circus when they let him go.
I’ve had the same kind of thing going for years… I call it White Knight Syndrome. Somehow I must be attracted to need, or else it just finds me. Even when I actively try to avoid relationships with damaged people, I still end up there. (Apparently there are a whole lot of them out there!) So I set about trying to repair their heart and their self esteem, and convince them that they’re beautiful, capable people worthy of love. Then once they feel better about themselves, they look at me and go, “Well shit, I can do better than THAT,” and move on.
Ah, yes, the White Knight Syndrome. What do they call it when the woman does it? Doormat? No, wait I think they pretty it up a bit and call it Florence Nightengale Syndrome or something. *sigh*
How does that Eagles song Wasted Time go? ‘You didn’t love the boy too much, no, no, you just loved the boy too well.’
Ehh ya.
I see that now. No good deed goes unpunished, kind soul. 🙂
Too true, my friend, too true. I think I’m too good to them. Seems as they can’t take too much of someone always being nice. The ones I find seem to prefer bitches.
Signed,
Ex-bitch
So funny. I can’t imagine joining the circus either. I’m glad the bird is now in healthy condition. Your good nature will always be repaid in some good fortune.
Hi Nikki! Thanks for stopping by! One can only hope kindness is repaid in kind, but at some point you have to wonder if it’s all been Waster Time Eagles reference).
I wish you could meet my friend Kenny . He owns a bird and fish store and is always getting animals the owners don’t want . He also resued a pigeon that got hit by a train. The bird lost his eye but was able to go back in the wild. He is also looking for a kind hearted women to retire with. He is not needy, has his own money and is 60. Too old?
Hmmm, no 60 isn’t too old as long as he’s active. Does he like to travel in an RV? That’s a requirement 🙂
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