Anyone who knows me will know that I'm not keen on animals. Well that's not entirely true. I like animals. Some of my best friends are animals. It's just that I think they're better off in the wild. In their natural habitat so to speak. Show me any animal that's much better off being kept in the confines of a house and I'll happily reconsider my position. Except for dachshunds. They don't count. Clearly any animal that would get lost in short grass wouldn't last five minutes in the real world. It's a jungle out there.
No, as far as I'm concerned animals are better off in the wild and humans are better off for them being there. I know where they are if I want to go and see them and they keep their distance. A happy state of being. You just imagine the carnage that would result if lions and tigers forgot their place and encroached into our space. Not that there are any such animals in Auckland. At least I don't think so. I'd have seen them surely?
So you may then, after all that, be surprised to learn that we have a pet. Or at least we did. For about eight hours. Maybe less. You see when I went out onto the upstairs deck for my morning cup of coffee at the weekend I was confronted by a piece of kiwi wildlife. Well a young sparrow or something. I'm not too sure. It was definitely a bird. With a beak and everything. For the sake of confusion, let's call him Trevor.
So I was confronted by Trevor who had, and it has to be the only explanation, had his maiden flight cut short by flying into one of the numerous pieces of glass that surround our viewing platform. Stunned, and a little embarrassed I imagine, Trevor didn't know what to do for the best. He tried, without success, to take off and gain enough lift to carry himself over the confinements of his new surroundings. It wasn't happening.
"Hhmmm", I thought to myself, "I really must do something to help"
I'd like to think this was out of a sudden urge to protect and nurture wild life but I was thinking ahead, "If the bleeder expires here I'm going to have to deal with a dead body"
But no matter how hard I tried, Trevor seemed reluctant to run into my grasping hands. No matter, I thought, we're off out today so I'm sure that between now and our return this evening he'll figure it out. I don't know what I was thinking. Maybe I'd set my expectations for Trevor too high? Maybe I thought his feathered mates would come to his rescue and fashion a rope kind of piece of apparatus from twigs? So, confident that Trevor was smarter than your average bird, I left some crumbs of bread and a tray of water and set off into town.
However, I was wrong as upon our return Trevor was still there. A little crisper from the midday sun and certainly a whole lot more tired. And he hadn't touched his breakfast!
Clearly Trevor was an idiot. I was going to have to intervene. But no amount of coaxing was going to get him to run into my helping hands, instead preferring to cower in the corner. An idiot and a coward. Oh dear.
I needed time to think. I needed some stimulus. I needed wine. Whilst I sat and pondered the puzzling predicament some of Trevor's mates finally made an appearance and perched on the glass edge of the deck. It was good that his colleagues were finally showing an interest and a previously unseen level of concern. Unanimously, and in perfect harmony, they called out his name, "Trevor! Trevor! Trevor!" and shat on our recently cleaned glass banister. Trevor seemed unmoved. It was getting messy.
Suddenly I hit upon a sparkling idea. A bucket! Surely with a bucket I could pounce and capture stranded Trevor and carry him to safety. Well away from our upper deck anyway. Yes that's it! And in the safe knowledge that we had such an implement in the garage I knew I was onto a winning solution.....
Trevor was having none of it. As soon as I got within a metre of him he flapped off to the opposite corner of the deck. Maybe it was the fact that I was too slow with the bucket, maybe it was the fact that the bucket was bright green or maybe I was a little drunk. Or all three. Whatever it was, Trevor was winning the battle. "One last go", I thought to myself as I stared my tormentor in the beady eye. So with my back to the house I cornered him, deployed the bucket. Bullseye! Except it wasn't. The little bleeder ran through my legs and into the house!
So if catching a four feathered friend on a plain, four sided space was hard you can only begin to imagine how much more difficult my task had now become. With the stakes much higher, and the number of nooks and crannies increased exponentially there was no backing out. I must say that I'd underestimated Trevor's ingenuity. He found places to hide that I hadn't even considered; behind curtains, under the sofa, behind cupboards and amongst the hi-fi wiring.
For the next half-an-hour a frantic game of cat and mouse ensued as I chased a bird around the living room (now there's a sentence I'd never thought I'd write!). Then, just as it was looking hopeless and I was coming to terms with having a permanent guest in the house, I saw my chance. With a swift swish of the bucket I had Trevor cornered near the top of the stairs. Unfortunately he was wise to it and with a deft flap of his wings flew down the stairs. Git.
But he was running out of options. I closed in on the landing, and give it one last shot..... Got him! Captured safe and sound in my bucket. With the swift application of the top of a pizza box to the bottom of the bucket I carried Trevor to the front door and the safety of the open world.
Yet still, I often sit here, stare out of the window look up at the sky and wonder where Trevor is. I'm sure he's got over his ordeal, picked up where he left off and is now the best flyer in his class. Good on him I say. Mind you I blame his parents. Fancy letting him fly on his own. At his age.
And as for me? Well it has made me realise just what wonderful wildlife we have on our doorstep. Not only birds but plants, flowers and just the other day I saw a rather content looking cat.....
