Bert

nothing fancy or creative today. just a report.

waking around 1030 to get up and ready for another trip to the old saw bones.

rabies vaccines, part two. or it would have been if today was monday not sunday.

i barely distinguish between days anymore. tho it wasn't until i'd already checked in at the clinic and waited 45 mins or two chapters worth of what i was reading. BIG SUR, by Kerouac if you need that kind of info. the parallels lately are wondrously hope dashing.

so tomorrow i return dubiously and bashful to get my curious vaccination for a disease not common and the circumstance of which no one comments verbally on, tho i see the critical disapproval, they eyeing me my animal caused wounds like a scarlet alphabet.

the walk there was also not with out incident. i discovered a wounded pigeon hobbling around a construction site and made a silent pact to come back and save it if it was still there when i returned from my appointment. it was. wing torn and bleeding. ripped thru the ribcage but ever silent and dignified in a way man can't understand. i picked it up and carried it home in my reddening hands. i bandaged it. got it some seed, dried bread and water, hoping.

i caressed it some, checking intermittently. resigned silence he turned inward to the cage i'd placed him in for safety allowing my kindness. i'm sure he knew his fate was soon to come.

just after our dinner i checked on him and found him cold, eyes closed and resting much where i'd left him laying on a pillowcase i'd put in there. i called him, Bert.

when i get on these missions my wife always reminds me that i have done more than anyone else did or would.

why is it never enough?