The Mourning Doves

I dreamed of mourning doves yesterday. There was a pair of them--in my dream, it was important to know they are monogamous, so this particular set had paired off for life. The male dove was ill--he could no longer fly well, and rather than leave him, the female dove flew nervously around him, pushing him gently with her beak, trying to get him up and flying. It was no use. He was in distress, flapping and dying, and she stayed with him, though he had perched on a picnic table and was easy prey for my dog, who I was walking as I observed them. 

The female became listless. It seemed to me that she was willing herself to die because she knew her life-mate--the bird she'd chosen to nest with for her life--was dying. She no longer cared. If she did not get eaten by a dog or a cat, she'd just lie down there and starve.

I saw this and was horrified by it--and at the same time, was powerless. I don't know why. I had no way to help the male, who was beyond human care, and I knew no matter what I did, the female would grieve over him.

Two pigeons flew over to the mourning doves, and began tussling the female, trying to get her to fly away, to save herself. She wouldn't. She let them peck at her. So the pigeons took the male dove, who had died, in their beaks and flew away with him. They knew the female would follow her dead mate, that perhaps they could get her up higher and give her a fighting chance.

I woke after that--I don't know what happened to the female mourning dove--and though I was just an observer, I could feel her grief--this horrible, deep, overwhelming grief that your life is ending because someone else's has.