For several weeks now, I have been hand feeding a bird.
It's no fancy bird...
It's the fall-out-of-a-tree-too-young-to-fly-or-feed-itself kind of bird.
I taught it to fly
...by making it exercise it's wings
...by giving it that little nudge over the edge
...by even giving it a little toss...
now it can flutter across the kitchen to land on my head
and more importantly,
across the yard.
It still eats baby bird mash from a syringe and pecks a few seeds.
I have a feeling that it is old enough to not be hand-fed,
but I'm not quite sure how to teach it that.
And, we named it Winky.
While I do see a really great parenting correlation here,
at the moment, I'm not looking for lessons, it's all about irony...
While driving in my van this morning,
I hit 2 birds...2!!!
Who does that?
I have been driving for 24 years and this is a first for me!
One, ran straight out in front of me and ended up a puff of feathers in my rear-view mirror.
The other swooped low across a major road and after hitting my grill, flopped into on-coming traffic.
After the first one, I was in shock.
The second one...
All I could do was scream and then laugh like a lunatic...
My boys, all of them, thought it was hilarious!
So what is to become of Winky?
I would like to know.
He has some outside time each day, but just doesn't fit in with the other birds.(He even flys away from them, I think I need to put a mirror in his cage...)
He doesn't even look like them , really...
he cocks his head funny,
his feathers are ruffled,
and he doesn't keep his wings tucked up tight.
He had no bird mom to teach him bird hygiene or bird posture.
So here I am, a person with NO PETS, raising a wild animal in my kitchen and killing 2 others in the same day.