I've had the unfortunate experience of discovering a tiny bird in Joel's shoe today. Giacometti was terrorizing the shoe in the porch, making a terrible racket, thus attracting my attention. Retrieving the bird, I noticed its leg appeared to be folded into its body...And assuming the worst, I wrapped the bird in one of Joel's teacloths and had a plan to take it to the vet for emergency treatment. On the way out from the hospital's residential area the bird flew out the teacloth and sat on a wall, his leg miraculously recovered! Such a sudden cure has oftentimes befallen people prior to their dentist appointments... On the other hand, animals and people alike are known to play dead or wounded when in duress, so maybe this birdy was but dissimulating its leg injury from the outset and only waiting for a proper opportunity to assert its perfect health. Either way, we are here treading the murky waters of psychosomatic medicine, one of the trickiest fields of ignorance, ruled as it is by an endless array of conjectures and refutations, in want of a solid and secure knowledge base.
All the while Giacometti continues hunting (and haunting) the grounds of the psychiatric hospital....
Mary (purr purr xx)
