Yesterday at work a small yellow songbird (I think a warbler of some kind, very small) was running into the glass doors and not flying very well. People were saying she had done that the previous two days. One of the members who had walked outside was able to catch the bird relatively easily. When the bird got out of his hand, I captured it.
Since it’s not in the natural order of things to be able to reach out and grab a songbird (unless you happen to have four paws and a wicked right hook), and it was recurring with this bird, I decided to rescue her. There was an empty computer paper box available; I quickly got her in there and poked air holes. Looking in the phone book yielded no immediate local bird rescue or rehab, so I called a local vet (whose name I recognized as one of our members!). The woman on the phone knew about an animal sanctuary that does regular pickups this side of the lake… however the next pickup isn’t until tomorrow. She gave me the number for the feed store pickup point, and also the number of a vet specializing in birds. I got the recommendations for what to feed the poor girl and how to care for her, and the last 36 hours have been a little crazy!
Feedings are interesting but messy, and the sensation of holding a tiny bird in your hand, feeling it calming down a little, and eventually coaxing it to eat or drink. She is still alive, so hopefully I’m doing something right! However, this morning at work, a male warbler also began crashing into the glass. Since the general consensus of the internet advice on caring for injured birds is quite frequent feedings, I happened to have the female bird with me in a box. I was able to capture the male, and now I’m feeding two birds!! One more night, and I can give them to the pros.
It’s been an experience, but while it’s exhilarating to hold that little life in your hands… it’s also terrifying! Their necks are so incredibly tiny, and their little feet holding your finger like a twig are so delicate as to be almost not felt at all, until you open your hand inside the box and the bird stays hanging on for a moment.
Feeding the female:
The male, right before he escaped my hand (that’s what I get for wanting to take a photo, eh?) and had me doing calisthenics in the tiny bathroom:
PS To give you a sense of scale, my fingers in these photos are not as large as they might look – I only wear a size 4 1/2 ring!
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