Sunday, 2 February 2014

Daddy the Bird Rescuer

    THUMP... that all too familiar heart wrenching sound.  The sound that signaled the impact of a little bird on our picture window.  It brought us all running, peering out the window.  All of us stood there looking out the window trying to see if the poor little feathered victim was moving.  

    We put the poor little motionless finch on watch.  Each kid took a turn watching out the window to see if there was any movement and to ensure it's safety from neighbourhood cats.  After a half hour watch, Christopher suited up, with a little yellow bucket in hand, he was on a bird rescue mission.
He came back in shortly with a tiny little bird, it's little feet all curled in, it's little eyes staring glassily.
"I think it's dead" he told the disappointed kids.  Rowan had already named it Chewbacca (don't ask me what goes on in that little red head of his).  We decided to let it stay in the house for half an hour, just in case the impact had stunned it.  

    It was not even half an hour later when we heard another THUMP.  "Oh No" the kids all shouted in unison.  Once again there was a mad dash for the picture window, and then a running commentary.
"It's not moving!"  "No, wait... it's head's moving...IT'S ALIVE!!!!!!"  By this point Christopher the bird rescuer was on the move again. 

    We sat at the window, glued to his every move.  The look of empathy on his face was beautiful.  There was this big man, with this tiny little creature in his hand.  I was glad that the kids were seeing their Daddy like this.

    Christopher took the little bird and placed it in a sheltered area on the front steps. We did our vigil, waiting to see if the little creature would recover, or if we would need to intervene.  The kids had ideas of a pet bird. I kept trying to tell them that this was a wild creature.  It would be cruel to keep it as a pet, it belonged outside in the wild.  No matter how much I told them, their little faces were full of hope that we would have to nurture this little finch back to health ... aka keep it as a pet.
    After the bird had been out there for about half an hour (that seems to be our magic time),  Christopher became concerned that it might be too cold.  "When I picked it up, it's little feet were like ice".  I went to my sewing stash and came out with a small square of fleece to put the finch on.  When we opened the front door to put "Fluffy" on, he/ she flew away.  The kids let out a triumphant "YEAH", and then it occurred to them that they would not be having a pet bird.  We watched it sit on the fence and then fly away.  I felt a great sense of peace, that we (Christopher) had helped to save a small life.

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