||[Sep. 16th, 2010|12:58 am]
As I was singing the Batman song on my way to class today, what should fall from the skies right in front of me. It’s a bird, no it’s a plane, no it’s Superman! Actually it was a bird. A fallen comrade from his snuggly little nest up in the Berenstein Bears house. Those bear lived in a tree you know. It twitched and twittered on the ground. I felt so bad for it. A part of me wanted to rip out my heart and give it to him. A part of me, the other part was away getting wasted in Cancun scamming all the fat chicks from the blind dude.
What should I do? I was so merrily on my class, singing the Batman song when such a situation occurred. Should I go to class and allow this bird to die. Or get run over by the vehement monsters on their bicycles? Or should I pick it up, hope I don’t get rabies, and whisk it away to my dorm where I can’t care for it, but I can try caring for it with the nonexistent bird caring items. Or should I take it to the Vet Med building and see what they can do for the little birdie boo.
I chose the latter being the nice guy I am and all. I couldn’t let what could be me in the next lifetime lay on the streets of a foreign land and breathe his or her last breath away. I had to do something. So I gathered up my stuff and sang my Batman song and headed off to the Vet Med. Who needs Psychology class first thing in the morning, am I right? So the people at the Vet Med building took the little birdie in nice and fine. I hope they care for that poor sucker well, or I’ll wish a tornado upon their houses and families.
I did my good deed for the day. I have done well and I am proud of myself. I saved a bird’s life and skipped class with a good reason. God man up above will understand why. I’m thinking about going back and visiting the bird tomorrow. I named him Toots. I will read Chicken Soup for the soul for Toots tomorrow. Hey, if it worked for a stupid fat chicken.