You never know how a day will unfold

Back from a glorious two weeks in West Cork and I was trying to get back to reality and work. On Monday afternoon I was just finished my weekly grocery shop and was about to get into the car when my phone rang. Youngest daughter.

“Where are you?”

“In Dunnes (which is about 5 minutes from where I live) – just about to get in car.”

“Oh, Ok. I am in the estate (where we live) and there’s an injured pigeon. Can you pick us up?”

Now, I don’t know why, but said youngest daughter, Mia has a habit of finding disaster. She witnesses crashes regularly and also finds dead or injured animals more than anyone else I know. In fact, a dead squirrel once fell out of a tree narrowly missing her as she walked up the road.

So, it wasn’t a surprise that she now had found a pigeon in need of assistance, but my heart sank. We were already dealing with a cat who had just given birth to four kittens and I wasn’t that keen on now having a pigeon to look after. But there really isn’t a choice if you care about animals,

And so a few minutes later I pulled up beside her and gazed at the bunch of feathers and a beak on the path. I wasn’t sure but it looked like a young bird. We checked around for parents or a nest. Needless to say, there was no sign of either.

Luckily, I had a towel in the car from our holidays last week and so using that, I picked up the poor little fella who we immediately called Cormac (the house outside which we found him is owned by a Cormac) and off we went home.

Now caring for an injured bird is not easy when you live with three cats. And it should be said that my cats don’t generally catch birds. Maybe once a year we find evidence of a murder but it’s rare. However, we don’t wish to hand one of them a bird on a plate and so we set about making Cormac a bed that we could place in the shed.

A box was found and we cut up newspapers and made him a bit of a nest and took him to the safety of the shed.

I was sure he wouldn’t last the night and comforted myself with the thought that at least he had a comfortable death and not one being mauled by an animal or car which is probably how his story would have ended had we left him alone.

Next morning I braced myself to find his body and get himself to dispose of it. His job is bins and disposing of stuff and digging holes for dead animals. I clean toilets etc. But surprise surprise as Cilla used say – Cormac was alive and looking a bit perkier than he had the day before.

So now we needed to know what to do now. We called a kind and pigeon experienced friend who confirmed he was indeed very young and gave us (well Mia) some insight into how to care for him and it seemed to be something we couldn’t do successfully. Mia works mad hours and trying to wrestle a pigeon in a shed wasn’t ideal. So, we got in contact with the Kildare Wildlife Rescue who didn’t hesitate to accept him as long as we could transport him to them.

And so my intended gym session was cancelled as we got Cormac ready for his hours journey to rehabilitation.

Kildare Wildlife Rescue are (to quote their website) “a volunteer-run charity organisation dedicated to the rescue, rehabilitation, and return of injured, sick and orphaned wildlife in Kildare and beyond. Our dedicated team of over 100 volunteers work hard to minimise the suffering of Ireland’s wildlife. Our aim is always to return animals in our care to the wild.”

It is very hard to arrive at their centre and just drop and go. But KWR is not a zoo much and all as I would loved to have visited with some of the animals in their care. So, instead I bought a T Shirt with their logo “every animal counts” and bid farewell and good luck to Cormac.

By now it was early afternoon and so Mia and I decided we would get lunch in Kildare town… not a place I had visited in many years (if ever). We found a lovely café, had a great lunch and on our way back to the car passed a beautiful kind of gothic looking cathedral – St Brigid’s (like who else would it be in Kildare) Cathedral.

Apparently this site goes right back to 480 when Brigid made it her permanent home and it has been a place of worship for Christians since then. Well, as Mia is a historian and I am just curious about everything, in we went and spent about 45 minutes in awe of the gorgeous interior of this now Church of Ireland cathedral.

Outside there is a Round Tower beside the ancient graveyard. This tower is the second highest Round Tower in Ireland and it dates to about the 12^th century, the original tower being from about the 6^th century but presumably collapsed. It is a mighty impressive structure with a steep stairs leading to the doorway. Apparently ladders can take visitors to the very top where a roof terrace must give amazing views over the countryside.

Ladders and a dodgy hip don’t mix and so I didn’t venture forth. Mia climbed a few floors to get a feel of being in a round tower.

Meanwhile I explored the restored Brigid Fire Temple foundations. I sat in the kind of sunken roofless space and pondered life and how we never know what a day has in store for us. And how important but sometimes difficult it is to ‘go with the flow’; to abandon plans to go with a new opportunity or activity although it wasn’t something you anticipated when you got up that morning.

When Mia joined me we also spoke about how important history is… and how it is all around us. The marks left by our ancestors, nuggets of how they lived and if you listen very carefully they may even whisper to you.

It was a lovely unexpected afternoon.

I hope Cormac is doing OK… and that eventually he will be released back to the wild. Maybe he will find his way back to Cabo and visit us.

But for now I have to go to the gym.