It was dark and I was standing in front of a stranger's house in an unfamiliar street, rescue box in hand, my head full of instructions to follow. The little bird waiting inside the house would be my first test as a volunteer.
A kind-looking man led me inside to see my very first patient. In front of this person I would have to look confident, like I'd done this sort of thing many times before. With him watching on, would I be able to move the bird neatly into my rescue box? How would I know if it was injured and needed to be rushed to the all-night animal hospital? I lifted the edge of the shoe box very slightly to see a bird standing on very thin legs. The bird seemed very frightened, so I decided to move the whole shoe box into my rescue box.
Back home, I phoned the bird specialist of my local rescue group. She told me that keeping it longer than overnight would do it harm. I needed to release (释放) it thne next day, on the same street it came from.
When I looked in at it the next day, I was relieved to see it was still alive, looking bright- eyed. I waited until dusk to release it. I sat the rescue box on the car's front passenger seat. Half an hour later, I was back on the street where I'd rescued it wondering what would be different for this delicate creature this time around. Nothing. It would have to protect itself just as before, and be strong enough-even after 30 hours in cage without food-to catch some insects without delay.
I held the shoe box up as high as I could to give it a good lift: the little bird flew off quickly into the darkness.
