Those of you who bravely
subject yourselves to the ramblings contained in this blog, already know we
have bird feeders ("Goldfinch Gold Mine" May 3, 2016).
You likely already know, too,
that after resisting the idea of acquiring the feeders, I am the only one who
looks after them ("Feeder Fodder" November 30, 2010). I have been the only one who *&%$#@*!~ looks after them for many, many, yes - that many - years!
Four seasons a year,
sometimes every second day, I fill them with seed!
At considerable risk to my sanity, I fight tooth and nail with greedy squirrel intruders to protect the feeders, and my wallet, from bottomless rodent appetites.
Hey, the birds are depending on me.
Our neighbours have moved away. They never wanted a fence between our houses and, in the beginning, that was fine.
After we bought dogs, however, we always wanted a fence, so the beasts could
have their very own dog run.
This week, we got a fence
installed.
The delighted dogs run themselves
silly, even in this heat! Their kingdom has expanded, although they eat way too
much of its grass!
 |
| The new reality |
The birds that know our
feeder are not used to factoring in dogs when they visit, and yesterday, the second
day we could let the dogs run around the yard, Bear, our Australian Labradoodle, pounced on something and then picked it up in his mouth. My wife and son pried open his mouth to find a little swallow inside.
We scolded giddy Bear, but I could
tell he was oblivious.
The bird flapped, rose for a
short distance, and then landed back on the grass, her breast heaving.
We called the wonderful people
at Le Nichoir, the rehab centre for songbirds.
They agreed to stay open
until my son and I got there with the swallow.
We were instructed to put the
bird in a covered, dark box, with something like paper, or a towel, on the
bottom.
After arriving at Le Nichoir,
my son filled out a form and we waited to hear whether the bird would be ok.
Catherine gave it to us
straight, telling us its femur had been broken and because bird bones are hollow,
there would be no way to heal it.
She told us the bird would be
put down.
We asked, reasonably we thought, whether it could
survive with one leg and she explained that perching birds, perch.
With one leg, it would lack
sufficient grip to perch where it wanted, fall to the ground, and break its
wings.
On that rather somber note,
we thanked Catherine, made a donation, and left.
Our new reality, and the new
reality for birds visiting our yard, is that our dogs want to swallow swallows.
My son vowed to stand by the
feeders when we allow the dogs into the yard.
I suggested we hang a gong on
the back deck and then bang it, to scare off birds and squirrels, each time we
let the dogs into the yard.
Birds of a feather can flock
together, I just hope they have a look around before they flock here.
