When Death Comes

Death is terrifying because it is so ordinary. It happens all the time.
-Susan Cheever

The sound woke me up. One sharp dog bark in the early morning quiet. I thought, "Are the dogs back?"  But I knew this could not be since my husband would not be returning with them for at least another half hour. Was it Greg coming to play with Duke and Little Sally Pumpkinhead? I got out of bed and walked to the living room to look out the front window. No dog there. I walked into the kitchen and looked out of that window. There in the alley was my neighbor's little Jack Russell attacking something that lay on the ground. I did not have my glasses on so I could only see what looked like a dark mass whipping around on the ground as the dog charged it and then either leaped backward or jumped over it, quickly rotating her body in the air so she could land facing it. I was afraid it was a snake and rushed out the back door.

When I got outside and close enough to make out was on the ground I was horrified to discover that what she was attacking was a bird. I called to her and opened the back gate. She instantly lost interest in the wounded bird and trotted into the backyard. I ran back into the house to put on my glasses, a sweater  and my slippers and then hurried back outside. The bird was lying face down on the ground and as it flailed its body around in agony I glimpsed its yellow breast and recognized that it was a young Yellow-breasted Chat. I froze knowing the bird was dying but not sure what to do.

As I watched, the bird's movements became more agitated. He tried using his wings to lift himself up off the ground but did not have the strength. His body jerked in what seem like unending spasms of pain. He twisted his neck to the side and raised his head to the sky- bill open in a silent scream of pain. His mouth opened so widely I could clearly see the egg yolk yellow/orange color interior and the bright yellow crayon mark that lined the inside edge of his bill.

I wanted to pick him up so he would know someone was there with him while he died but at the same time I was afraid to touch him. I wanted to turn around and go back in the house because I could not bear to watch his death throes but at the same time I could not bear the thought of him dying alone. Then, while I stood rooted to the ground in indecision, his body slowly relaxed and his spirit left him. I felt both guilt and relief. Relief because he was no longer in pain and guilt because I had given into my fear. I though I was a better person than that.