The high-pitched siren of the fire brigade alarmed us one night. We rushed out to the balcony to see what had happened. A big red fire brigade truck was standing right at the entrance of our society gate.
The firemen were climbing the building next to ours. Some time had passed as there was a crowd gathered below looking on with curious excitement. The kids were thrilled that they were witnessing a rescue mission and that they had had their adventure.
For a moment we thought our building was on fire. To our immense relief, nothing of that sort had happened. It was only a pigeon stuck in a grill of the balcony of our neighbours upstairs. While struggling to break free, it had broken his foot and was shouting for help.
When the fireman let it free, we cheered. A lot of commotion followed. Girls and kids rushed to pamper and pet the pigeon. One even made it drink water. But it needed medical help since its leg was broken. My ever obliging husband took up the task of taking it to the hospital. (Is it not the duty of the fire brigade to transport the injured to the hospital?).
Two guys, a kid and his father accompanied him. The kid wanted to hold the pigeon hence he wanted to sit in the front seat. His father had to sit with him in the front. His father also had his one hand in a plaster. So the kid held the injured pigeon in his hand while the father with the plaster held the kid on his lap.
On their short journey to the hospital, the pigeon threw up!