Family walks are a way of life in our house. A few times a week–when our boys aren’t at Jui Jitsu–we walk a couple of miles around our neighborhood.

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Since our boys were in diapers, they’ve dealt with walks (not always pleasantly). First they rode in strollers, then they toddled beside us, eventually graduating to walking all on their own.

I grew up taking walks on the steep Connecticut hills, and it was both exercise and family time during my childhood. My parents held hands as we traversed Bradley Lane and called out ‘hellos’ to neighbors through the trees and rocks.

During one of our recent evening walks we noticed a small form in the road, and the traffic was light enough for us to investigate.

“Is that a bird?” One of us asked.

I surely wasn’t leaving a helpless animal in the middle of the road, so I dashed over, my imagination already running through wildlife scenarios. My boys followed, and my husband trailed behind (probably worried the animal would end up returning home with us).