His eyes closed for the last time; his pale red feathers stiffened and froze forever. His body rested beneath a comfy white sheet on a large mattress in a sunlit room. And standing by his side was Fluttershy, who had witnessed his last living breath. Her heavy eyes looked at him, struggling to remain open at the horrific and familiar sight. Eventually, though, she allowed them to close and see pure darkness. She pushed out a forceful exhale and followed it with a soft inhale.
“Goodbye, Mr. Cardinal,” she whispered.
She then opened her eyes, which were now stung like they’ve been attacked by a hornet, and stared at the bird’s body one last time. Like all the other animals, he was truly beautiful— a word she wished she could use to describe herself. She remembered the graceful flights from the wings that would flap no more; she remembered the melodic chirping from the voice that became eternally silenced. He was another member of her family; the local animals that have assumed the roles of her children. She had lost another son.
She slowly brought her hooves closer to his body, slid them underneath it, and gently lifted it from the bed. The cold, limp touch always shocked her and Mr. Cardinal was no exception; the chilling sensation carried her as she marched out of the room.
As she exited the doorway, she noticed an observing Angel. She was briefly able to see his sad, dark eyes before he bolted to her leg, clinging to it like a small colt. It warmed her heart receiving such affection from her angel.To accommodate him, she slowed her step as she approached the wooden staircase. Each gradual step produced a creaking sound that she has long been familiar with. At the bottom of the steps, she went to a small closet. She rummaged through its contents before pulling out a shovel. She carefully tucked Mr. Cardinal into her left foreleg as she used her right to balance the tool on her back. She then went to the front door of her home and exited.
Once outside the cottage, she turned left and headed through that part of the lawn. She walked to the treeline and continued down a vaguely defined trail. The shade of the trees and the clouds in the sky dimmed the walkway. Fluttershy resisted the urge to look down at the bird’s body and kept her eyes on the trail ahead.
Eventually, she arrived at a small field. The plain was surrounded by tall, coarse grass that blew with the wind. Although the ground was difficult to see, she identified and fixated her vision on specific plots. Each one was an old, yet painful reminder of the past. Sometimes she wished she could forget such memories but such desires made her guilty; they betrayed the fond recollections and legacies that were closely tied to such travesties.
Scanning the land, she found a piece that was not occupied and walked over to it. She lowered Mr. Cardinal to the grass and gripped the shovel. She dug into the earth and removed a large chunk of grass and dirt, leaving a congruent hole in the ground. She struck again and removed another chunk. She repeated the process until she had made a large pit. Satisfied with her work, she dropped the shovel.
Her eyes slowly turned to Mr. Cardinal and her eyes stung once again.
“This is always the hardest part of the job,”
She remembered the first day she met him; his small infant frame, his young crimson coat, and his high-pitched cries all served as a warm, nostalgic scene. She remembered his parents, both resembling him in nearly every way. She assisted the two parents the best she could.
“Mr. Cardinal,” she said to her unresponsive friend, “I did not look forward to today.”
At that moment, she recalled her flying beside his childhood nest, encouraging him to jump from it. The young bird was timid, as most were, to leap from such a terrifying height.
“I spent every day like how I spent with all of your friends: living life as happily as possible. I figured you knew that as well.”
Eventually, he found the bravery to take that daring step. She remembered how he flapped his wings in vain attempts to achieve flight, the fear she felt when he was falling, and the relief of catching him.
“You meant a lot to me, Mr. Cardinal. All the animals are going to miss you dearly….”
Fluttershy paused as she stared at the bird’s body. A tear raced down her cheek, but she wiped it away and continued.
“I’m going to miss you too…”
Time after time, he struggled to fly. But even with the failed attempts, she was confident that he would soon be in the air. And sure enough, that day came. She remembered how happy Mr. Cardinal was on that day, the rush he got of being like her parents and the thrill of growing up. She yearned for those days to come back.
“Goodbye, Mr. Cardinal,”
Fearing another tear would escape, she quickly proceeded to pick up his body. Once it was in her hooves, she turned to the pit and laid him down on the soft earth. She took the shovel and lifted a chunk from the mound. One bit at a time, she covered up the hole she created. Her vision became blurry as she dug, but she tried not to cry. After an arduous period of time, the hole was covered.
Standing back, Fluttershy stared at the new grave: a fresh patch of dirt in a field of grass. Her breathing became heavy at the sheer sight.
“There goes another one….and it always hurts the same….”
She felt something from her foreleg. Looking down, she saw Angel desperately attempting to climb it. Smiling at the sight, she used her other hoof to lift him up. She flapped her wings so that she could wrap him with both forelegs. She hugged him tight. Such an embrace relieved stress from the mare. And the feeling of her friend returning the gesture was soothing.
“Angel,” she whispered, “promise me you’ll be here for a long time.”
With her eyes closed, she felt a nudging from under her chin. And then she was at peace.
