While outside, it is raining cats and dogs, albeit not real ones, drama of a different kind ensues in the rooms of our office: it begins with the door opening and a confused-looking character sticking his head in the door. There is no answer to my question how we can help him; instead, he looks toward his feet and says “you have a situation here”. I’m thinking water damage, smoldering carpet, something of that nature, when suddenly something dashes out from under Claudia’s desk, sending us shrieking toward the hall. I turn around and look: it’s a baby hawk, looking lost, trying to hide under the heater. Claudia wants to know if the bird was in the office when the guy came in, but he says, no, it was sitting next to the door and must’ve slipped in when he opened it to alert us.
So let’s look at this: a grown man comes in well before office hours to tell us there’s a bird in the hallway. Why? Was it early for an appointment? And instead of saying “there’s a bird outside your door”, he mumbles something stupid that could’ve covered so many situations, it’s worthless as an alert. Luckily, we’re really more together than this fine example of a soldier, so while the bird looks on, I get down on the floor, talk to it, inching my way closer until I can wrap it into my fleece shirt and carry it outside. The guy, ever so helpful, hovers over my back until I tell him to get lost. Outside, the little bird scrambles away but bumps into the side of the building across the driveway. I check if it’s ok, and it seems to just be a little dazed, so I leave it where it is. When I come back half an hour later, it’s gone, back to the nest, I hope.
In other news, the world-famous Taco Bell dog (‘Yo quiero Taco Bell’) has passed away at the ripe old age of fifteen. Rest in peace,