He died, right in my hand.

So I picked up Little Honey last night at a friends house and there on their lawn was the cutest little bird I’ve ever seen. It was flopping around and couldn’t fly.

I scooped him up, proclaimed that his name was “Jerry” and took him home with me. I have done this so many times I have lost count.

This morning I called the wildlife rehabilitator (who is on my speed-dial) and asked her to come to my office to get Jerry. She said that she would be there between 11am and 12pm.

At 11:10 I noticed that Jerry was declining and promptly took him out of the box and held him. I stroked his head and told him that everything would be all right.

At 11:15 Jerry died, while laying in my hand and me stroking his head. :frowning:

At 11:20 the wildlife rehabilitator arrived, I gave her a generous donation and she took him with her.

I am so sad, I go through this at least 3 times a year with birds. Do you suppose that birds just know who to go to when they sense the end is coming?

I have asked about becoming a wildlife rehabiliator, getting licensed, etc and will let you know how that goes.

She thinks that Jerry was a Starling. I know this is a non-native species that competes with native species. In the end it was just a life struggling to survive and I couldn’t help him.

I hate that. I tried to rescue so many animals when I was younger and most of them are beyond help when you find them.

Sorry about that. :frowning:

:frowning:
So sad…

You gave him comfort, though, and he didn’t die alone. That’s worth a lot.

:frowning:

At least he was getting a head-scritching when he died. There are certainly worse ways to go.

I think that’s so sad. Isn’t it strange how tame a wild bird will get when it’s in ill health?

Of all the 5 wild birds I’ve been able to pick up with my hands, only 2 have survived more than a few hours. They were both pigeons. I wanted to keep the last one in a cage over the winter, just to make sure he survived. Unfortunately he wouldn’t eat. After a couple days he seemed healthy & I put him in my garden. A few hours later he was gone.

Do you mean gone as in flew away or gone as in dead? I was told by the rehabber that only a small percentage actually live even when given the best care. But us animal lovers still try anyway don’t we? Keep trying jack@ass. (Why does it sound like I’m insulting you when I use your user name?).

Err, you know that your thread-title is an archaic (but still graphically sexual,) double-entendre, right?

Carry on.

I am known among family and friends as THE person to call when finding injured wildlife.

I have had some luck (pigeon, baby rabbits) and a lot of tragedies (robin, other bunnies). The hardest were the bunnies, they hung on for a week (our Wildlife rehab people won’t come and pick up, you have to go about an hour outside of town) poor little babies. They were getting better, fatter and more active and then…one by one…they died.

I feel a little better knowing that rabbits (wild ones) are notoriously hard to keep healthy, I managed with four a few years ago, but not these ones.

:frowning:

I had a kitten die in my hand once. I was working in the shelter, and there was a litter of kittens in a cage. I let a tomcat out while I cleaned his cage (this was general practice, lets them stretch their legs) and he went over to the cage, reached in through the bars, snagged a kitten in his paws and dragged it, lightning-quick, to the widest spot between the bars where he bit it, hard. By the time I got there the kitten was mortally wounded and as I held it in my hand, it died. Depressing, and I felt truly gulty. I didn’t know Tomcats would do that, nor that he could get a kitten while it was in its cage.

I had a pigeon I tried to save die while I was cleaning his injuries. He was hyperventilating…and then it stopped…no more…waaa! :frowning: