Only An Animal Lover Would Understand

To the friend of any animal, this one’s for you

It’s been quite a long time since I covered the topic of animals. Being an animal lover is a major trait of mine, and I continue to think that a lot can be said about people who are animals lovers. Every once in a while, nature sends me little messages that remind me about just how much animals mean to me.

More specifically, I am also occasionally reminded about just how much of a softie I really am when it comes to almost all wildlife, with the only exception perhaps being most bugs. But I think that’s expected and easy to relate to understand.

What brought on my desire to write this piece was a little experience I had several evenings ago. I was taking my daily walk, going up and down each street in my neighborhood, and around bits and pieces of a park, and lake that we have as part of our community.

Upon coming back to my own street, I noticed one of my favorite type of birds sitting in the grass up ahead. The Carolina Chickadee. A very small, black and white bird whose usual song sounds exactly like laughter. Everytime I hear one, I sometimes even say jokingly, “stop laughing at me.”

They are all one of the smaller of bird species, and I didn’t realize that it might be quite young until I realized it didn’t seem scared of me. It wouldn’t fly away, until I actually tried to touch it. Each time it felt me touch it, it would do a little song, and then fly into the air 6 or 8 feet, only to continuously land roughly a short distance away. It kept on doing this, and I tried my best to keep making it jump up and away until it was a bit further away from the sidewalk and street, and more in the brush area under some trees. Each of its landings were pretty brutal. Like as if a parachute failed.

Anytime, that I have experienced a sick or injured bird, or any animal for that matter, a wave of sadness and depression flow over me. Feeling as bad for the poor little animal almost like I would grieve for a human. I also felt extra bad due to the fact that the animals usually don’t know any better, and don’t understand why a certain scenario may be happening. And in this case, I was also unsure to what was really going on. Was this a bird with an injured wing, or was it just a goofy and clumsy baby that was still working on mastering the art of flying? I had really hoped it was just a young one, still practicing.

Whether it’s an injured animal, or an animal running from a predator, a hungry animal, or a baby looking for its mother, I am just s sucker for sadness when it comes to any of those type of scenarios. It just seems as if I just cannot deal with an animal in distress without feeling extra bad for them. When somethings gets killed, or injured, or what have you, the logical response can be something like, “you can’t worry about it. Everything will be fine, and nature will takes its course.” Now I’m no fool, of course I realize that the food chain always does its process

So what does this all mean? Am I a bit neurotic? Obsessed? Dramatic? No, I don’t believe so. I just am one of those people in the world who has a kind heart for the animals of our planet. Whether it’s cats, dogs or turtles which I’ve always owned, or the hundreds of bird species, in which fulfill my bird watching, or the vast diverse wild animals like giraffes, elephants, hippos whales, bears, rhinoceroses that I have always loved and been interested in.

I continue to use the trait of an animal lover as a key factor in telling a lot about a person. It’s sort of like a dog’s intuition. I know for myself, I have seen it comic strips, or portrayed as jokes where a dog owner may say “if my dog doesn’t like you, I probably shouldn’t either. Sometimes that can be an exaggeration, but it does make me laugh when I hear it. Because dogs sure are smart.

So getting back to my original point of the story, and my seemingly extreme depression and anxiety that hits over a potentially injured bird. I maintain that I don’t think it’s such extreme behaviour to feel that way over an animal’s misfortune. Some people may even feel that in scenarios like that, perhaps it is best to just put a creature out of its misery. But I myself have never been able to come to term with doing that with my own hands. The closest thing to that is when a vet has had to put down on old, sick pet of mine.

If only I could have the ability to be a vet, each time I stumble across a badly sick or injured bird, on my walks around the neighborhood.

The End,

MICHAEL PATANELLA