Falling in love again

I’ve fallen in love. Never in a million years did I think it would happen here in Greece, least of all with one who doesn’t even speak the same language. His name is Sheldon—I know, not a Greek name, but as it happens, Sheldon’s family came to Greece from Northern Europe, so he’s not actually Greek. Sheldon and I became acquainted within my first week at the wildlife hospital and it was love at first sight. I’m not quite sure how he came to be at the hospital—he’s definitely not a volunteer—but I’m guessing it was because his mother abandoned him or was killed and he was simply too young to survive on his own. As you’ve guessed by now, Sheldon is a ‘patient’ here at the hospital—a Shelduck, to be precise (thus the name ‘Sheldon’). He was just a wee little thing when he first came to us, a puffball of downy grey-and-white feathers and peeping like crazy. He’s flourished under our care and has already doubled in size…but he’s still small enough to hop into the crook of my arm whenever I open his cage. Ah, love is such a sweet thing…