I took him in, comforted him, and fed him until he could fly. He lived in a tiny birdhouse I made for him, with a blanket that had the word 'JACK' written across it. Eventually, he was ready to leave - but I just couldn't let go! He meant so much to me. One day, I accidentally left the door open, and he flew as fast as he could outside. He flew about 10 feet before he made a rough landing into a pile of sand - following which, he started hopping to the shore of the pond by our house. All the while, I was trying to chase him - but then, he found a small wooden boat beside the shore. Once he got on it, and it started drifting away, I knew he was gone for good.
And while I have to say I'm heartbroken, I'll always remember this as the day I almost caught Captain Jack Sparrow.
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