She found it on our front lawn. It was flapping its wings, but couldn’t fly and it would try to walk but would just fall over. No visible gashes, or blood.
I called our vet and they referred me to a wildlife rescuer. But when I called her, she told me to take it to the Humane Society.
When we got to the Humane Society with the robin in a shoe box, there were two women out front. One was wearing a uniform and one was wearing scrubs. The lady wearing the scrubs eagerly took the bird out of the box and looked it over. I told her, I figured they’d have to put the robin to sleep, but she said , “He’s just missing some feathers in his wings and they’ll grow back and his legs are working. Plus he’s feisty!” (Indeed he was, we could hear him flapping all the way there in the box.) They figured he was attacked by a cat
Turns out the wildlife rescuer recommended by my vet only took in raptors.
We have the good feeling of knowing we did a good deed.
Last year my husband and I successfully raised a fledgling mockingbird to maturity. We named him Atticus.
We were joyful, yet sad, when Atticus was finally old enough to leave us. He hung around in the backyard for a while, gobbling treats that we offered him, but then he flew off on his own. Every now and then I hear a mockingbird that sounds like Atticus, and I think motherly thoughts of the little guy.
I found a baby robin in the street around the middle of last May. I didn’t see any parents (if parents are present you’re supposed to put the baby up on a tree branch or in a shoebox attached to the tree and back off to see if the parents will tend to it. Contrary to popular belief, parent birds aren’t disturbed by the scent of human hands on the baby, as their sense of smell is poor.) I put the baby in my coat pocket, then went to the grocery store. When I told the cashier I had a baby robin in my pocket the bird chirped, causing the other people in line to laugh.
Once back home I made a few calls and got a wildlife rehabilitator to take it.
We’re lucky enough to have a local organization, the Wild Bird Care Centre which takes in injured birds like this. We’ve taken birds to it on several occasions.
I found a baby blue jay in my front yard spring of last year. Poor thing had fallen out of its nest. I didn’t know quite what to do, so I decided to put him in the shrubbery in front of my house. A little while later I saw what I presumed to be its mother or father feeding it. It stayed there a few days then one day I came home, looked and it was gone. I assume it got big and strong enough to go out on its own.
This April, a bird flew into the sliding glass front door of my office. I picked it up and set it in the little flower garden area we have in front of the office. About an hour later, it stood up, shook itself and flew up onto a low branch of the holly tree in the garden. A little later it flew off.
It feels good to see something like that and know I had a hand in it in some way.
