Our Little Birdies

I've always been known for loving animals and having a difficult time when they die or seeing animals inhumanly treated, etc. When I was little, I had a little grave yard, of sorts, for all the dead animals I would find (remember Dee and Miss?). There was the crow, snake, our hamster, a toad, the list goes on.

Directly to my left, while sitting here at my computer, is a window looking out to our deck. As I sat here typing this morning, I heard some commotion out on the deck, coming from a Daddy bird (I can tell it's the male, but don't know what kind of bird it was - looks like a Chickadee). Anyway, he was doing some sort of "dance" that I have never seen from a bird before. It wasn't the mating dance, I've seen that one before. It was more hectic, scared, "somethings wrong" dance. So, after he was done and flew away, I knew in my heart what had happened. One of his precious babies had fallen out of the nest onto our deck. This happens every year. I have to clean up a poor little baby that has fallen out of it's nest. I know that some birds get rid of their babies by pushing them out, if they are sick, dying or the runt, but this was not done on purpose. At least that's what I believe, judging from the Daddy's response.

Now, as I am typing, the Daddy has come back and is hopping around the entire deck and the back porch, as if he's looking for his lost baby. The one I just put in the garbage can. (sigh)

Call me sentimental, but this little event made me go hug my precious girl...tight. Some day she'll have to leave the nest, hopefully gently and with loving arms to help her on her way.

What a lovely start to the day.... : (