| OH MY GOSH!” I said. “Look at that bird! It’s hanging in mid-air!”
My dad stopped the car and my parents turned around to stare at the seagull that hung suspended in mid-air, flapping its right wing aimlessly. We figured that the seagull’s left wing was stuck to a string (probably of a kite’s) and that it was trying in vain to fly away, but not succeeding. I can’t stop remembering how vulnerable and scared that bird looked. Flapping and flapping its wings, swinging and swinging from the line attached to its wing. It looked so painful. At this point, we had started to get out of the car, not sure of what to do, but wanting to help set it free. My dad went to the rescue.
First, he walked right up to the seagull, almost under it. He tried jumping for the string that was suspending the bird (the seagull was suspended just a bit above his head). When that didn’t work, he tried to get the string by pulling the bird down by its wing. The seagull screeched, struggled and pecked him once before swinging around and screaming at the top of its lungs. It looked so scared! It seemed to be thinking that it was going to die and that my dad was trying to kill it. Finally, my dad jumped high enough to reach the string and break it. But, it wasn’t over yet. The bird was STILL attached to another string. But, now it was hanging near my dad’s waist, near the ground. As the bird was falling and swinging from above my dad’s head to his waist, it screeched in what I swear was surprise.
The next part warmed my heart to the roots. As my dad reached for the wing that the string was tangled up in, the seagull did not resist, it merely just looked at my father and allowed him to break the string while holding its wing tenderly. Had it realized my dad’s intention?
When the string broke, my dad was still holding its wing and it didn’t resist. But, as most saviors sometimes end with a funny part, my dad let go of the bird so that it fell with a thump on the grass, rubbed his hands and walked away. The seagull screeched in surprise, stood up shakily and wobbled to the edge of the curb where it sat down tentatively and nursed its wing. It continued to stare at us. As, we left, I bid a goodbye and good luck to this bird, wishing it a good recovery. But, we came back to the same spot afterwards so I saw it again. It hadn’t budged from his spot. We were here for a dentist’s appointment so we went into the small hut like 1-floor building and watched the bird while waiting for my turn. I over-heard a conversation.
“Hey, so you called the animal help center right?” Said a really tall guy.
“Yea, but they said they work from Monday to Friday.” The woman at the desk replied solemnly.
“Heh. Well, that sucks for the animals.” The tall guy said with a laugh, but I could tell he was worried.
After we were finished at the dentists’ and we were leaving again, I bid one last long, sad look at this seagull who had fought to survive, had a chance to be helped by the animal service and had been let down in the end.
Then, I thought about my Dad, the hero, the one who had earned this bird’s trust and maybe even respect. MY dad, the one who had allowed it the freedom from the string so that the seagull could now at least walk around and eat and drinks some stuff, survive longer, maybe even heal. But, the bird’s wing was broken, and I don’t know if seagull wings can be fixed by themselves.