Toasted Cats and Baby Birds

We sign the new lease tomorrow morning! The Prof stopped by the new apartment after he finished teaching yesterday and got everything rolling. Of course, now the real work begins. It will be nice to have paperwork in hand, though, since that will give me a firm move-in date to work with and the information I require to start doing the address changes/insurance changes/other fun stuff. Blast, I barely got my new driver’s license and now the address is going to be wrong on it again.

Got a call from the Elder sister while I was still at work yesterday.

ES: Sorry to interrupt you at work, but I have a problem. I have a sick bird in my garden.

Me: Do you know what kind of bird it is?

ES: No, but it’s as big as a robin. I was watering the pachysandra yesterday when it staggered out of the garden soaking wet. I didn’t know what to do, so I just kept an eye on it. It was still in the garden this morning, and it was still here when I got home just now. Should I give it some water?

Me: How do you know it’s sick? Can you describe it?

ES: Well, it’s just sitting there screaming. When I tried to get close to it, the bird ran back to hide in the pachysandra, but it was tripping over the plants and struggling to get through them. [For those of you not familiar with the plant, pachysandra is a ground cover about four to six inches high, and very dense. I can understand why a bird would struggle to get through it.]

Me: What does it look like?

ES: Well, it’s about robin sized, like I said. It has a black head, and black wings, and a sort of tan chest with spots at the throat.

Me: You have a baby robin there. Don’t worry about it. It’ll be fine.

ES: But it’s screaming. And it’s at least as big as an adult robin.

Me: Yup. Baby birds have lots of down under the adult feathers when they first start to grow. All that fluff makes them look larger. It’s screaming because it’s hungry. Mom and Dad are right around there somewhere, feeding it.

ES: But it screamed when I tried to get close to it.

Me: That was it’s alarm scream. It just didn’t want you too close.

ES: I wondered why there were other birds behind me, screaming at me as well! What about the neighborhood cats? Won’t they get it? Shouldn’t I give it some water?

Me: If you give it water, that will attract every cat in the area. Just leave it be. Its parents are taking care of it. Baby birds have been taking first flights for years and surviving. They all have to take their chances with the local cats and dogs eventually. Don’t worry – this little guy will be fine.

ES: I’m glad I have a vet I can call about these things [chuckles] I’ll let you get back to work.

Ironically, that was common sense advice, not vet advice. I can’t say that they taught us much about baby robins in veterinary school. They just warned us we needed special permits if we were going to get involved with wildlife rehab, and if we didn’t have the permits to refer the animal to someone who did. With luck, the Elder Sister’s baby robin will figure out wing and rudder control before she has to mow this weekend.

The Prof and I watched the first hour of my video of “The Picture of Dorian Gray” last night. This is his first viewing. I was worried he might not like it because it is an older movie, with typical stiff, formal Oscar Wilde dialogue and a rather preachy thrust to the story. He seems to be having a good time with it though. I know I’m having a blast rewatching it. It will be fun to watch the ending tonight.