Primum Non Nocere

First, do no harm.

I sure hope I do no harm. Layth and I were leaving McDonald's tonight after an ice cream/playplace excursion when I noticed a baby bird sitting two spaces over from where I was parked. I watched it for a bit, remembering all I was taught about never touching baby birds or their parents wouldn't come back for it, but in the end, I just couldn't leave it in that parking space to get run over by someone who didn't notice it.

With Layth watching curiously from the car, I tentatively approached the little bird and touched it lightly. It didn't seem bothered. I called K to let him know I was bringing the bird home, planning to look online for a number to call for help. K locked up the cat. I had a shallow box of bottled water in the trunk, so I took out the bottles and took the box to the bird. I was a little concerned about being pecked because this is a grackle, and has a pointed beak. I sound quite knowledgeable about birds here, but really that's just because I've spent the past two hours reading everything I could find. It squawked and fluttered a little, but didn't peck.

On the ride home, the little bird hopped out of the box, onto my diet Dr Pepper, and then into the crook of my arm, where it stayed for the rest of the journey. Aww. I did everything one-handed from that point so as not to disturb the bird. Once home, I held the hem of my shirt, making a pocket for the bird, who didn't protest at all. I found a basket, put a towel in, eased the now-sleeping grackle into it, and hit the internet while K tucked Layth into bed. I found a bird rehabilitator in a neighboring city and called, even though it was now after 10pm. She was asleep, but her daughter was very helpful. She told me it would sleep through the night, so I should put it in a quiet place and soak some cat food in water overnight to feed it in the morning. Her mother should call me tomorrow.

I went back to reading, and now know that this bird will imprint on me very easily. This brings to mind a book I had in my childhood that I haven't thought of in many years ... "Are You My Mother?" by PD Eastman. I also know that this fledgling grackle was probably not abandoned, but may have been waiting for its dad to come back with food, and that I should take him back home. But he'll get run over if I take him back! But he'll stick to me for life if I don't!

K finally convinced me to let him sleep here tonight, and see what the rehabilitator says tomorrow. I still can't sleep. He's on a towel ... I wasn't supposed to put him on a towel. He might need his bedding changed ... I'm scared to handle him again for fear of letting him imprint on me. He'll need food in the morning, and though I know how to feed him, I'm scared of the imprinting thing. Are his parents sad and missing him? Is he sad and missing his parents? Has he already replaced them with me in his little bird brain? I'm afraid I'm doing all the wrong things, and I'm going to have the death of this little bird on my conscience. For tonight, he's safe and sound in Mina's and Layla's room, away from curious cats and rough-and-tumble toddlers. I know Mina would approve.