Bye Bye Birdie

Bye Bye Birdie,
I'm gonna miss you so;
Bye Bye Birdie,
Why'd ya have to go?
- "Bye Bye Birdie"

The baby bird is gone. After many phone calls, I finally found an animal hospital that would take him and transport him to a rehabilitator, but not before I got attached to him. I say "him," but really, I have no idea how to tell.

He was chirping in his basket when I went to check on him this morning (after locking up the cat, of course,) and had left two little presents for me on the towel. Being a good birdie, he moved to the other side of the basket so as not to soil his feet or downy feathers. I disposed of the droppings and took the basket into the kitchen with me to see if I could persuade him to eat the cat food I had soaked. (It seems odd to be feeding cat food to cat food, doesn't it?) Using blunt chopsticks, I picked up a piece of moistened food and held it over the bird, who just looked suspiciously at me. I gently tapped his beak like the girl on the phone had suggested, but still no response. As K and I were gazing into the basket, wondering what to do next, he opened his beak wide with a little chirp. I dropped the food in, which vanished immediately, and he opened wide again with another chirp. I was a little clumsy in my attempt to keep up with him and took too long to get to him, and he clammed up again. I discovered that by shifting the towel under his feet, I could get him to open up, though I'm not sure why this worked. He had a few more morsels before I shifted that towel right out from under him. Now what?

The bird thought maybe now would be a good time to explore the kitchen, and hopped right out of the basket. I scooped him up and he perched on my finger, clinging tightly to me and making me feel like a Disney princess with a birdie on my finger. Mina would have been so delighted. I found an old, abandoned t-shirt of Justin's (my teenager) and used it to line a box big enough to contain a hopping explorer. He wasn't very interested in eating more, so I covered the box and went to get Layth, who was waiting patiently in his crib for me to come get him and take him to see the bird.

We sat at the table admiring the bird, and he suddenly opened wide with another chirp. Layth got to watch as I fed him another two pieces of cat food. By the time I got the phone call telling me where to take the bird, I didn't want to let him go. Seeing him look up at me with that wide open mouth, listening to those sweet cheeps (that would turn into raucous squawks in a few weeks,) and feeling him clutching at my finger ... I was so charmed. However, I knew that I wasn't qualified to raise a baby bird, and I certainly didn't trust my cat to cooperate, so off we went.

I feel a little down, now. I hope he really does go to a rehabilitator who takes good care of him and that they don't just say that to put me at ease while they euthanize him. I meant to take a picture of him to post here, and I forgot. I miss him already! I've never liked grackles much, and always thought they were loud and ugly, but I'll never look at them the same way again.