August 16, 2004

Garden of Simple

In my front yard, among the rosemary and lavender, there is a small baby pigeon nesting in the garden. She is feisty, with nearly full-feathered wings, and she pecks up a storm.

I found her outside yesterday morning, shivering and dazed under the stairs. She was leaning against the wicker wastepaper basket by the mailboxes in my apartment complex, her whole body a pulsing heartbeat.

I watched her for a while, and didn't touch her. Supposing the mother might be nearby, I let her be.

Seven hours later, after a dazzling day in the sunshine coupled with mojitos and lovely company, I came home. And she was still there, shrinking into herself, very nearly motionless. After conferring with my neighbors and scouring the internet, I learned some useful facts.

  • It is common knowledge that if you handle a baby bird, its mother will abandon it, sensing the foreign scent of a human on her offspring. This is false. Birds have horrible senses of smell.
  • If you find a baby bird, do not give it water.
  • Most vets have nutritional formula that you can feed the bird, preferably through an infant medicine syringe, which they will also most likely have. I was lucky in that a few blocks away, there was an emergency vet that sold baby bird kits, for just such an occasion.
  • If you give a baby bird to a shelter, they will most likely euthanize it. Certain vets, however, will take it in and care for it, for a fee.
  • Lastly, if you find a baby bird that has feathers, leave it alone. It is learning to fly, and its mother will abandon for periods of time, watching from a distance. In all likelihood, if the bird has feathers, it's momma is nearby.

    The pigeon I found was probably 2.5 weeks old, and I housed her for night in my bathroom, surrounded by warm water bottles with the heat turned up. I made a nest for her of twigs and toilet paper, and she snuggled in for some cozy rest. In the morning, she was awake but mostly still, and I cupped her in my hands and released her into the garden.

    When I checked on her several hours later, she flew away from me as I approached, and the frenetic beating of wings sounded overhead. The distressed momma had found her, and was teaching her to fly.

    In my life, I have tried to rehabilitate squirrels, turtles, rabbits, songbirds and even a seagull.

    All of them have died.

    This is probably the first animal that has left my care better for it. I wish her well as she learns to spread her wings.

    Posted by Olga at August 16, 2004 04:14 PM
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    Melt

    Posted by: sugarfish at August 19, 2004 02:29 AM
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