You might remember the story of Wenzie, the pigeon, who stayed here at the Jones Rehabilitation Center for Crippled Birds. (Perhaps against her will. Definitely against mine.)
Yesterday Sara called in a panic for Mary. A bird emergency. An abandoned nest, two babies, and a cry for help.
The amateur rescue crew divvied up the fowl; one stayed at Sara's, and the other took up residence in a cardboard box at our house.
Her name is Onesie.
(Because she's a baby.)
I believe she is a morning dove.
Onesie is pretty much the most exciting thing to happen to the kids, well, since Wenzie.
I don't know how the story will play out.
But I know that for Mary, every day spent with Onesie is a happy one.