Are You My Mommy?

Preparing to walk Sparky about 4 a.m., I cast a flashlight around under the nest where the baby birds had been falling out that afternoon, hoping that they had ceased doing so after the nest fix earlier in the day.

No such luck. Splat on the driveway gravel was a very cold, very baby bird. Presumably this was the weaker bird, pushed out of its nest by its stronger sibling. It was clearly going to die soon. I tried giving the bird some of Cloudy the Rabbit's banana, but the bird didn't react. What to do? So, I cupped the bird in my hands as I juggled the pooper scooper, and gave Sparky a brief walk around the neighborhood, not even travelling as far as our usual jaunt to the 24th Street Theater. At 24th Street & 2nd Avenue, I located a small slug on the sidewalk outside the cafe there and fed it to the bird. I quickly returned home. I located a second, larger slug in the back yard and brought it inside the house.

What to do? I decided to sleep with the bird. I cut a sock in half and put the bird inside the bottom end. Then I placed the sock inside the rigid ring of a roll of masking tape, minimizing the chances that I'd roll over and squash the bird in the night. I prepared a syringe of water, to hydrate the bird, should it need it.

The second slug vanished somewhere in the bathroom: I doubt it moved fast, but it had incentive to hide. So, what to feed the bird? In the refrigerator we had some Harry and David smoked salmon, purchased at Christmastime at the Roseville Galleria, salmon that E. refused to eat, because we discovered only too late that the purchase date had long passed: it was apparently from 2001. I nevertheless figured that smoked salmon should last, and that salmon is very nutritious: I know I'd prefer old, dead salmon to new, live slugs any day. So, I opened up one of the packages of salmon and started feeding the bird.

She's (he's?) so cute. She'll be all curled up, and quietly chirping in her sleep, then suddenly she'll open up her big, gaping mouth, like Audrey II, and ask to be fed.

I woke up shortly after 6 a.m., and found my T-shirt and covers were smeared with bird poop. Didn't quite understand how that happened, but since this morning I now have a better idea - they just stick their rear ends outside the nest in order to take care of business. So efficient!

So, I've brought her into work. I'll likely run out of the salmon I brought, so we'll both dine out today at lunch. Maybe I'll check out the cracks in the sidewalk again over at 24th Street and 2nd Avenue.

She seems to be a Western Scrub Jay, a common bird which can eat many things, so salmon won't hurt, and there are likely many other things I can feed her - even slugs.

I wonder how to deal with issues like introducing her to her kin, teaching her to fly, etc.?