Well...not quite. More like the angels, last night.
In this case, an angel with beautiful white-feathered wings. Really. This isn't a hallucination, or a psychotic break or anything like that.
As I was about to cut my arm, my cell phone rang. Because of my IT job, for which I am on permanent callout, I have to answer the phone - especially when I don't recognise the number. It was a woman, whose family had just found a pure white baby pigeon walking down the road...all by himself, in the dark, not flying....
They were willing to bring it to me, but I thought I'd use the opportunity to work off a bit of tension by driving too fast, along a fairly good road. So I went and fetched him, got given a box of Swiss chocolates as a thank you, and heard from the man who had seen him first about his new business, that had begun trading at New Year. His emblem is a white Roc, the mythological bird - so he saw the pigeon as being a good omen for the business. Didn't tell him that it was also intervening in my bad habit.
So thank you, little Roc. (I name the birds while they are in my care, mostly just so that I can differentiate between them, and keep records of their care. Not because I am a bunnyhugger. Although I am.)
And today was just about 8 hours of travelling around town, fetching birds, delivering a few to the centre, fetching a few more. The rehab centre that I volunteer for doesn't treat either Indian Mynahs or Feral Pigeons, as both are regarded as non-indigenous species. So I have a roaring under-the-counter care system going for both species, as they are among my most favourite birds. The down side of that is a day like today, where my net bird population has risen by 7 "illegals", and 2 temporary residents, all needing hand-feeding and/or gastric tubing.
One way of keeping out of trouble, I guess.
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