Our canine resident El Rocco took rather doggish action against a dove about a week ago. He caught it and gave it a chew or two before he was stopped.
The dove was in a shock and tried to get away, but could not fly. It was captured yet again and examined. We figured it was suffering from wing sprain and bruising. There was no blood and the joints/bones seemed more or less ok.  It would not have been right to leave the animal outside in it’s maimed but curable condition. One of our local cats would have surely taken advantage of the easy meal situation.
The humans of the house were determined to care for the dove as long as it needed (less than two weeks was the accurate guesstimate).
At first it was kept in a wooden crate, but when I got close to look in, the dove just glared out from between the slats, unmoving. I knew the look. I’ve seen the expression in guinea pigs and in my own reflection. It was not a happy creature. It had not processed how it was hurt or why it was confined.
Not much later, things were arranged for the bird to have an entire room to itself. The room made for a lonely aviary.
Almost every morning I paid a visit. I, as a giant, stupid, flightless bird was better company that none. The bird seemed to perk up at my attempts at cooing noises and would become more active.
Each day the dove was calmer, bolder, more curious and displaying clearer desire to get outside. It was encouraging to see such improvements.
Though it is still missing wing feathers, today, la palomita showed obvious signs that it was well enough to be let out. In due course, the window screen was left open and it got up into a tree outside. I guess our intervention worked and now I wish our bird friend better luck out there.