Barry the bird

My mum and I rescued an injured bird yesterday. We think, but are not certain, that it was our cat that attacked it. Initially the bird seemed to be on death's door but after we gave it some water via a syringe some life came back to it. We named him Barry. I had visions of Barry getting better and frequenting our garden for food and to shit. I left our home for a 21st birthday meal and a few drinks in a pub with Barry put to the back of my mind. When I got home Barry popped back into my mind and I hoped he would have been set free by one of my parents. Sadly I found Barry was still in his box. Whilst he is still warm I fear he is dying, if not already dead. What started and was ending as a good night has finished in tragedy. I knew my cat was a bastard.

R.I.P Barry the bird

xxx