If one could get into heaven simply by rescuing birds and returning lost cell phones alone, I'd be a shoe-in. I can't count the number of times I've called the state wildlife people for the name of a local bird rescue volunteer in my area and then delivered an injured bird to that person. With all of the moving we've done, trying to track down the name of a local volunteer in each new area was never a simple task. I'd usually have to call three or four different wildlife number listings before reaching an actual live person to provide me with a volunteer's number. Then I'd have to call the volunteer, describe the type of bird, the apparent injury, get directions to their home, etc. We've lived here for nine years and I can recall at least six bird rescues just since we've lived here. There was the one my sister's cat attacked, one hopping around in our bushes unable to fly, one in the front yard under the tree, one that tried to fly but kept crashing into things, the list goes on. I always get a little jumpy and nervous when trying to capture them to put into a box, so Lauren usually ends up with that job. The most recent rescue was about two weeks ago and I can’t take credit for that one. It flew right into our back patio sliding glass door. It must’ve had bad eyes because I can’t remember the last time I “Windexed” that thing! Lauren and Caden were home alone and saw it happen. Lauren called me at work to find out where the “bird rescue lady” lived and I attempted to give her directions. I'd lost the phone number after my first visit. You’d think I would’ve gotten it during my 2nd, 3rd, 4th, 5th or even 6th visit, but that would've been too easy. The second time I went there, I just remembered what street she lived on and about how far down on the block the house was located, even though it had been dark during my first visit. I felt confident I was at the right house when I saw empty cages along the side of the driveway. I have repeated those same steps searching for the correct street and house each time since then and always vow not to leave without a phone number and address, but always forget. You should’ve heard me trying to explain to Lauren how to get there without a street name (I only remembered that it started with an A) and estimating about how far down the house was located. Lauren eventually found the house and delivered the injured bird. I'm sure it’s recovering well. I promise the next time we go, I’m going to get her phone number, address and possibly even her name so we can at least give her a heads up that we’re coming.
I found a blackberry on the ground at the ballpark a few nights ago. It turned out to belong to a mom on the opposing team that Cassidy was playing. Since I’m blackberry illiterate, a dad from our team helped me work the device and called the home number listed. We were told the owner should be at the ballpark watching a game and what team to look for. When I find a phone I always go through the address book or the last call dialed and start calling, hoping that person can track down the phone’s owner to let them know that someone has found their phone. One particular phone recovery was on an airport shuttle bus and I had to mail that one back to its rightful owner. I can’t count the number of phones I’ve returned. I did get my good deed payback last year when I dropped my cell at a rodeo cook-off we were attending.
Upon arriving home, I knew it was possibly lost but was hoping it had just fallen out somewhere in the car but at that point was too tired to go back out and search for it. That next morning Lauren woke me up bright and early, standing over my bed saying some man had just called her saying that he’d found my phone. He was leaving the rodeo grounds within the next ten minutes. Fortunately for me, he asked what booth I’d been to and it turned out he knew my cousin and agreed to drop it off at their booth. Otherwise, I never would’ve made the twenty-minute drive in ten minutes to catch this guy before he headed back home, which wasn’t close by. I guess it’s like a “pay it forward” kind of thing since I’ve been on the other end of the lost phone thing now. Birds, on the other hand, still like to poop on my car but I guess I’ll keep on saving them.