We have a nest of baby birds in our vent on the back of our house. Yesterday morning, Rob pointed out to me that 2 little babies had fallen from the nest. Neither one of us wanted to really get “involved” but I knew I didn’t want the dogs to eat them. They were still alive and I felt sorry for them. They looked a lot like these:
Now, I know certain ones of you would have done whatever you could to save them, but we were both ready to go to work….so, I did what anyone would do, I said, “Rob, can you just scoop them on to a plate, without touching them because if you touch them the mama bird will ignore them (is that really true, by the way?), and put them in my flower pot on the picnic table.”
Rob wasn’t too crazy about doing so, but he did – awww, he loves it when I put him up to stuff like this!!
I figured that the mom would have a chance to bravely swoop them into her arms…er….wings and take them back the nest. I’ve watched too many animated movies. Well, we came home from work and were sitting in the living room with the usual, “How was your day, honey?” “Great…..” “How was yours?” thing….when we both remembered – the baby birds! Did they survive? Did the mama swoop them up? What happened.
WARNING: for the faint at heart, stop reading now, skip the next sentence.
One of the baby birds died and was crumpled up in the flower pot. 😦 Sad. I won’t tell you the rest of this baby bird’s story.
FAINT AT HEART: you can start reading again…
The other baby bird who I fondly named “Fred” was hopping around the picnic table chirping but looking pretty sad. Since Fred is such a fighter, I decided we needed to somehow help him make it back to the nest. Rob said we needed to place Fred on his little plate in a tree…no way, I knew he’d hop off and fall. And I couldn’t give up on the little fighter! So, I finally convinced Rob to get the ladder and put Fred back in his nest.
The plate option didn’t work, it was to cumbersome to get Fred to a place to hop into the nest hole.
The next option was to take off the vent covering – how was I supposed to know that it would rip away from the side of the house and damage the paint?
Finally I decided to get a little plastic cup – I figured if we put Fred in the cup, the cup opening was about the size of the nest hole. After I plopped Fred into the cup, I decided Fred must be thirsty, so I took the cup inside complete with chirping Fred and I dribbled water on top of his head with the faucet sprayer. He perked up and immediately opened his little beak and drank – at least that’s what it looked like he was doing. Soon I realized I had enough water in the cup that Fred might drown…yikes, I went back outside and switched Fred from the cup to the plate then back into the cup and handed the cup to Rob to place in the nest – after all that IT STILL DIDN’T WORK. The cup angle never could get to the same angle as the house and the Fred didn’t cooperate and just sat at the bottom of the cup.
Finally, I decided Rob needed to tenderly gather little Fred into a paper towel, push the paper towel gently into the nest and release Fred back to his other chirping siblings. At one point, Rob did ask why I didn’t do this? Well, it gave me the heebie jeebies to think of touching the bird, so of course that should be Rob’s job, right? 🙂 I thought so.
So with great coaching words from me, which I know Rob REALLY appreciated, Rob gently and tenderly placed the baby bird, Fred, back into his little home.
As of last night and then this morning, I still heard chirping and no babies on the ground. I like to think we saved Fred for something fabulous – like….hmmm….well, maybe Rob was right in this regard, he mentioned sweetly, “Great, we saved the bird so he can grow up and poop on our patio!”
Ah….the joys of married life and tackling life’s little happenstances together!