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The Scrub Jay came back and took the bird. I prayed that its death was quick.

We had fed the birds all winter, including the scrub jays. Scrub jays love peanuts. The house and purple finches love sunflower and millet seeds. The gold finches love thistle seeds. I thought that we had a no-kill zone.

I knew that scrub jays would kill other birds. I knew that if they were feeding chicks or if they were annoyed they would tear apart other birds. But, it hurt.

My hubby kept saying that he was sorry, so sorry. I knew he was -. Except for the last few weeks we have been feeding a little finch with neural problems. We weren't sure if the finch was a he or a she. We had seen another finch do a mating dance around it. It would sit on our balcony and watch the world go by. This little bird had a head twitch. My hubby would smile and tell me that our little bird was talking to its friends in its head. It would sleep on the floor of our balcony. I would see it in the morning.

The little finch seemed to get better, until I heard it sing yesterday morning then I knew it was a little male. It seemed a beat behind the others.

When the scrub jay landed at my feet, I knew it had killed my little damaged friend. I couldn't quit crying. The tears rolled down my cheeks as I hid my head under my pillow. I fell asleep that way.

So let me tell you of life and death. It is harsh. It is quick. One time I was the little bird in the clutches of a predator. When the claws pierced my kidneys, I went numb. Even though I was in pain, more pain that I had felt in my entire life, I couldn't feel it. It is true. There is only so much pain a body can endure.

It was my husband who pulled me back. It took me more than three years to come back. But, I couldn't help the little bird. It was too far gone. Sometimes death is inevitable.

Learn more about this author, Cyn Bagley.
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