During my morning exercise today, I saw 2 elderly women grab roughly at this pigeon out of the grass patch. They chattered excitedly in a heavy accent, examined it and put it back. I think they wanted to cook it but decided not to because they thought it wasn't healthy. I didn't really know what's wrong with it and I was tempted to leave it there.
I came home and talked to Grandma. Grandma didn't think twice. She grabbed a bag and a towel. She marched off determinedly to bring the pigeon home and nurse it back to health. That's the thing with my in-laws. They love animals. My Father-in-Law has brought home all sorts of ailing little animals to nurse, and when he takes his morning walks in the park, stray cats come up to him purring. Recently, a mynah has even learnt to perch on his arm. Looking at him with his wizened old face surrounded by animals, you'd think he was the Wizard Radagast from The Hobbit.
When The Daughter's pet fish was found to be pregnant, she made me walk over to Grandpa's house close to midnight to deliver the fish to Grandpa's care. When The Daughter's pet turtle grew sluggish and looked ill, off he went to Grandpa's house. Both my kids have immense faith in Grandpa's ability to bring dead pets back to life. The turtle died in Grandpa's care, but rather than face his broken-hearted grand daughter, Grandpa bought a brand new turtle and announced... "Tada! Tommy the Turtle is well again!"
Actually... me too... I have great faith in Grandpa's ability to make sick animals well again. I thought first of Grandpa when I saw the pigeon. I also... I am ashamed to admit, thought of roast pigeon.
Grandpa said the poor birdie had been run over by a car and broken a wing.