My New Houseguest

About the time we first hear the Robin's ringing welcome to spring

 we may listen for the Bluebird's more gentle greeting.

No bird's song is more associated with the return of Spring

 than the Bluebird's:

 - Frank M. Chapman, Birdlife, 1897

Last week on return from a visit to the moms we pulled into our driveway.  We entered the house and removed Winston from his crate and allowed him to go outdoors and relieve himself as he had spent some time inside.  Since the sun had already gone down the next task at hand was to gather our kitties,  Sweetie and Sunny to let them go into the garage for the evening.

Usually when we have been gone and return in the evening they are more than ready to go in for the night.  Living in the country there are many not so friendly noises and animals to go along with such noises to warrent a quick run to the safety of their evening bunk.  Yet on this night they were not anywhere to be found.  Even after calling, the slight tinkle of their bells could not be heard. 

I went inside to prepare supper, when I heard a strange noise on the front porch. When I opened the door there sat Sweetie.  When I looked further  to see why she was there as opposed to the back porch, I spotted Sunny as well.  This was odd as they do not usually frequent the front porch, especially after dark.  I quickly told Vincent where they were and commenced with dinner.

Finally shortly after, Vincent came in and informed me that the two had cornered a bird underneath the front porch and this was the reason they were relunctant to come when called.  He then said that in order to get them to come he had to get the bird and put it in the trash so they would follow. 

Now many of you know the many exploits I have had with my kitties in regards to their adventure with birds.  Many a time I have saved a little feathered friend only to bury it the next day when it finally passed.  So when Vincent told me of this misfortune I had to ask him what kind of bird they had caught.  He looked at me in a sorrowful manner and I knew that they had caught one of my precious bluebirds that frequent my yard. 

The next morning when I went to let the kitties out and take Winston for his morning duty, I went to the trash can to see the bird.  I had full intentions of preparing a proper buriel for him with the other "misfortunes" Sunny and Sweetie had given me.  To my surprise as I opened the lid I looked for him yet at first glance did not see him.  As I looked further, I spotted him sitting snuggled up at the botton between a couple of small bags of trash.  I carefully took him out and proceeded to examine him for the extent of his injuries.

Now mind you the many times I have "attempted" to save a fine feathered friend I have looked at them and expected them to be ok only to soon after come back to find them gone.  I did not see any visible signs of major distress except that a wing looked to be slightly banged up.  Yet as he jumped from my hands and attempted to fly I could see that it was damaged in a manner that meant if I did not tend him he would surely be breakfast. 

I put him into a bird cage I had purchased last summer to aid in my many attempts of rescue and put him in the silence of the garage while I went in to have my morning coffee.

Needless to say I was surprised when he seemed bright and alert when I later went out in the day to check on him.  I brought him into the house for warmth and also to examine him more closely.  He definately had a bad wing and bled slightly from underneath.  I did not think he would make it through the evening yet once again the next morning I was pleasently surprised when I awakened to his song.

He has been with us now for 4 days.  I researched online to see what I could do to help him out and we bandaged his wing up as best one can for a small bluebird.  He still likes to crawl out of it on occasion yet I bind him up again to keep his wing as immobile as I can.  He has proved to be quite calm and allows me to hold him in my hand without attempting to fly.  He likes to be soft spoken to and a soft stroke on the side of his face seems to make him quite content.  Each evening he nustles his head down and dozes off to sleep and his song fills our house during the daylight hours. 

I am grateful for each day that he remains with us and pray that he makes it to the point where one day soon I can allow him to return to his world.  There is a sweet solace in a birds pressence.  The blue bird in its colorful beauty is a wonderful example of this.  He seems to talk to me with his eyes and even seems to enjoy when I cradle him in the soft piece of red fleece I use as a blanket for him. 

So my absence the last few days have been spent tending to my new friend.  And hopefully in the days to come my time will equally be asked for as he slowly recooperates back to his old self.