Saving A Robin, By Whatever God

IN A NUTSHELL, Hallelujah! True story here. Looked out my window with a can of beer in my hand. Saw a big fat robin sitting on my driveway moving its head back and forth, and nothing else. My heart sank. It looked hurt to me, unable to fly, doomed to die, to be eaten by my cat, if nothing else. Should I go try to save it? How? With a cardboard box, a bowl of water, and some dead bugs? Watch it wither away and die? Seems doubtful that a vet, or anything else, could help. Maybe just put it out of its misery in a god forsaken dumpster and forget about it. I walked away from the window, beer in hand. When I summoned the courage to return five minutes later, no change. More depression and cold beer. I was frozen with inaction, the desire not to be there. When will my cat find the bird, strike, and kill? I had to do something! I just couldn't. Five minutes later it was walking off the driveway and into the grass, seemingly energetically, without a care in the world. I didn't stay at the window long enough this time to see whether it flew away - I didn't want to jinx it. I stood there praying that it would. My next five minute check it was gone, not a feather left. It had to've flown away. I have seldom been so happy. To me, it was a miracle, because anytime I have ever seen a bird on the ground, sitting and doing nothing on concrete, it was hurt, and it died. As I finished my first beer and reached for a second one, I decided that somehow divine providence was involved, and gave thanks to God. Why not? after all, I had prayed. And to me, it matters not which god. Mine will do, either the vastly superior spirit and old eternal genius of Einstein, or the supremely logical, scientific deist deity of Jefferson. Hell, for that matter, the crazy Judeo-Christian god of my crazy right wing Christian friends will suffice, you know the one, the one who killed fifty thousand innocent people because somebody else took a peek inside an ornate box. Hallelujah!