To kill a mockingbird...but what about a sparrow?
So is this synchronicity or what?
On Saturday, I had coffee and then dinner with my friend Alanna. She told me this great story about how she once found a baby bird that had fallen out of its nest and was still alive. She had a friend who was raised on a farm, so she consulted said friend for ways to take care of it--she basically had to feed it water from an eye dropper and feed it fly larvae (since it had an insect-eating beak). She said it looked like an old man with the buggy eyes and the feathers coming in all sparse and cowlick-y. I could totally picture it, too--what a great analogy! She ended up raising the bird till it was old enough and strong enough to fly and, like a proud mama, she watched it fly off on its merry little way to live its own little birdie life.
Fast forward to tonight. I was on my way to the laundry room at my place, and I saw a small dark shape on the ground. It was a sparrow-esque bird, just sitting on the ground looking up at me. Obviously there was something wrong with it, as it didn't move as I got closer. I didn't see any blood, and it was crouching, but its legs looked fine (it was standing on them), and so did its neck. I heard commotion and noticed the mockingbirds were getting really excited. Two of them were yelling and screaming, flying dogfights and landing on the pool fence nearby. They weren't yelling at each other. Not a coincidence, I surmised. I got a shoebox and lined it with paper towels, cut down a paper cup and filled it with water. I put gloves on so as not to repeat the Great Hamster Biting Incident of 1998. I slowly approached the bird so as not to spook it. It let me touch it, and I put it in the box on top of the cushion of paper towels. It didn't even react. I also looked it over, lightly touched its wings and legs. It didn't seem to be in pain. I thought it had to have been in shock. It looked like its feathers had been pulled out at the tail and the ends of the wings. I was right--the mockingbirds had kicked its ass. So I played nursemaid. I didn't have an eyedropper, so I just wet my fingers and dropped water on its beak, hoping some got in (I was NOT about to go in the dumpster to find fly larvae). Kind of stroked its back a little to relax it. It blinked and it breathed, but otherwise it didn't move. I also noticed that its feet were not stretched out like normal; the toes were curled, like palsied hands. I'm not a vet, but I THINK that's a sign of trouble. Call me crazy...
I tried to call Alanna, to see if she had any sage advice, but her phone was temporarily out of service. I looked for a number for Animal Control just to ask their advice on what to do, even though it was after hours, but nothing came up on my Yellow Pages search. So I just kept checking the bird periodically. The air was getting colder, so I put a couple of facecloths around it like a little blanket. One of my neighbors said that one of the neighborhood cats had tried to screw with it, but she'd shooed it away. There are no kitty-proof places outside my building to set the box. I didn't have anything screen- or mesh-like to put over the box to keep the cats away, either. So I just keep hoping my constant presence will be a cat deterrent. Weirdly enough, on my way back from the laundry room, I noticed another neighbor's cat (different cat) in its window, gazing alertly towards my front step where I had the box...could it actually SENSE the bird? That would be a trip if it could...
I'm afraid it's going to be dead in the morning. I have no X-ray machines or splints or bird-sized surgical instruments, after all. I can't exactly bring it in the house to keep warm--what if it snaps to in the middle of the night and freaks out, flapping out of control all over the apartment? And if I can't catch it to release it outside? So I don't know whether to sleep on the couch to be near the open living room windows, in order to hear it if it cries out in horror if a cat creeps up on it, or whether to just go to bed. As far as taking care of it, I think I've done all I can, not being a vet. At least I tried to make it comfortable.
And you wonder why I don't want kids...
On Saturday, I had coffee and then dinner with my friend Alanna. She told me this great story about how she once found a baby bird that had fallen out of its nest and was still alive. She had a friend who was raised on a farm, so she consulted said friend for ways to take care of it--she basically had to feed it water from an eye dropper and feed it fly larvae (since it had an insect-eating beak). She said it looked like an old man with the buggy eyes and the feathers coming in all sparse and cowlick-y. I could totally picture it, too--what a great analogy! She ended up raising the bird till it was old enough and strong enough to fly and, like a proud mama, she watched it fly off on its merry little way to live its own little birdie life.
Fast forward to tonight. I was on my way to the laundry room at my place, and I saw a small dark shape on the ground. It was a sparrow-esque bird, just sitting on the ground looking up at me. Obviously there was something wrong with it, as it didn't move as I got closer. I didn't see any blood, and it was crouching, but its legs looked fine (it was standing on them), and so did its neck. I heard commotion and noticed the mockingbirds were getting really excited. Two of them were yelling and screaming, flying dogfights and landing on the pool fence nearby. They weren't yelling at each other. Not a coincidence, I surmised. I got a shoebox and lined it with paper towels, cut down a paper cup and filled it with water. I put gloves on so as not to repeat the Great Hamster Biting Incident of 1998. I slowly approached the bird so as not to spook it. It let me touch it, and I put it in the box on top of the cushion of paper towels. It didn't even react. I also looked it over, lightly touched its wings and legs. It didn't seem to be in pain. I thought it had to have been in shock. It looked like its feathers had been pulled out at the tail and the ends of the wings. I was right--the mockingbirds had kicked its ass. So I played nursemaid. I didn't have an eyedropper, so I just wet my fingers and dropped water on its beak, hoping some got in (I was NOT about to go in the dumpster to find fly larvae). Kind of stroked its back a little to relax it. It blinked and it breathed, but otherwise it didn't move. I also noticed that its feet were not stretched out like normal; the toes were curled, like palsied hands. I'm not a vet, but I THINK that's a sign of trouble. Call me crazy...
I tried to call Alanna, to see if she had any sage advice, but her phone was temporarily out of service. I looked for a number for Animal Control just to ask their advice on what to do, even though it was after hours, but nothing came up on my Yellow Pages search. So I just kept checking the bird periodically. The air was getting colder, so I put a couple of facecloths around it like a little blanket. One of my neighbors said that one of the neighborhood cats had tried to screw with it, but she'd shooed it away. There are no kitty-proof places outside my building to set the box. I didn't have anything screen- or mesh-like to put over the box to keep the cats away, either. So I just keep hoping my constant presence will be a cat deterrent. Weirdly enough, on my way back from the laundry room, I noticed another neighbor's cat (different cat) in its window, gazing alertly towards my front step where I had the box...could it actually SENSE the bird? That would be a trip if it could...
I'm afraid it's going to be dead in the morning. I have no X-ray machines or splints or bird-sized surgical instruments, after all. I can't exactly bring it in the house to keep warm--what if it snaps to in the middle of the night and freaks out, flapping out of control all over the apartment? And if I can't catch it to release it outside? So I don't know whether to sleep on the couch to be near the open living room windows, in order to hear it if it cries out in horror if a cat creeps up on it, or whether to just go to bed. As far as taking care of it, I think I've done all I can, not being a vet. At least I tried to make it comfortable.
And you wonder why I don't want kids...
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