Care from a Carrion

It's easy to see why no one would expect a vulture to make a good support animal, let alone a friend. They're not the easiest on the eyes, the smell is pungent at best, at their table manners are just the worst. But when working on the seventeenth floor of a busy yet isolating and intimating building, you'll never find a better ear to listen than Vax'ildan, or Vax for short.

My first interaction with Vax was jarring to say the least. Waiting for an elevator trying to get home at the end of the day, the last thing you'd expect is to see the striking form of a buzzard looking right back at you from his perch on the window. Growing up in Central Texas, you are familiar with the large carrion bird and they are not very welcomed. True to form they eat the dead animals off the side of the road and can actual become a bit of a road hazard. The thing that truly set Vax apart from others of his kind, was that when he looked at me, there was no sign of fear. In fact, I would come to find out, that he's a bit of diva. Anytime you pull out a phone in his presence, he fluffs out his wings and strikes a pose, waiting until the phone is put away before carrying on about his business. I smiled at his antics, but didn't think much of it, other than a funny story to tell my friends; not expecting much to come out of this photogenic bird.

There are several nights of the week where I end up working so late that the cleaning crew practically expects me to be there when they arrive. To say it can be isolating is a bit of understatement. Additionally, working in an intense and stressful environment like a law firm makes it difficult to keep up a positive attitude. So by the ends of most days I am worn down and drained and for some having a common an omen of death, much like his namesake, hanging around would not improve the mood. But for me, he's a relief at the end of a long day. Because let me tell you, there is no better listener in this world than Vax. I may never be able to pet him or cuddle him; he will never lick my face or wag his tail and I will probably never be able to visit with him outside of the window of the seventeenth floor. But when I am waiting on that elevator, he looks at me with wide and patient eyes while I stand there and go on about my day like a crazy person. He doesn't talk back, he doesn't smile, he just sits there and listens. The conversations aren't long, but they allow me to break down for a few moments, to a being who exudes compassion without saying a single thing.

Maybe I really am crazy, maybe this bird is just looking out me wondering "what they heck is this human doing?". But every day he sits there, on days when I am on the verge of tears and wondering what it's all for, I can't help but think that he's simply saying, "I'm here. I hear you." So as I sign off to the vulture who lets me vent, the caring carrion, I say thank you Vax, you mean more to me then you may ever know.