We all have the occasional bad day. One morning, we witnessed a robin having its bad day. It flew to one of the fountains and landed on the edge.
Its intention was obvious: get a drink of water.
Gripping the edge of the fountain tightly, it tilted forward and picked a beak full of water that it swallowed by sticking its head up. Obviously still thirsty, it did it again.
Then, something went awry on the third drink. The robin suddenly lost its grip on the edge and fell into the fountain head first, wings flapping, desperately trying to prevent the inevitable: splash!
“Oops!” I said.
The bird picked itself up in the water. It was clearly deeper than what birds like for a bath: only its head and neck were above water. It then hopped back up to the edge; completely soaked. Gripping the edge tightly, it shook vigorously a number of times, spraying water everywhere.
Shoulders up around its head, it stood there glaring out at this unjust world… Then it turned around and glared furiously at the fountain. This was not a happy bird.
It stood there for a few minutes, shaking itself, trying to get dry. Then, with one parting black glare at the fountain, it flew away. I put the camera down and looked at Cherry.
“Maybe we need to put a rubber mat in this thing”, I said.
“And a bath towel on the edge” she replied.