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a little tweak She's been staying with us about a week. A female house finch. Her visit, like so many others, started after a phone call. A woman asking what she should feed a "little brown bird" that she had found on their sidewalk after last week's horrific windstorm. A bird with an injured wing. Well, actually, you shouldn't feed it anything. It's illegal for you to even have it. So, I made the trip into town, and retrieved said bird. Who was much livelier, two days after her accident, than she was before. Now, problem is, what to do with said finch? Her wing injury is up in the shoulder. That's bad. Bird bones heal neatly, but the rehab folks get really depressed when I bring them a bird with an injury in a joint. Getting those tiny little tendons back where they need to be is extremely difficult, and rarely successful. Not to mention, this is "just" a finch. A native, true, but not exactly a rare bird. Certainly, in the eyes of the outfit, not worth the time and gas it would take to drive it 100 miles to the nearest rehabilitator. Especially when the prognosis is not good to begin with. The warden's recommendation, when hearing of our latest charge, was immediate euthanization. Though that's not the word he used. So, we had a guest in our living room. She actually seemed to like it, so long as no one was looking at her. Took to the finch seed like, well, a finch. And figured out the tiny water troughs with no problems. And her wing got stronger. She didn't hold it right, but within a day was flying herself up to the top perching bar. Eldest son named her Tweak. After the South Park character she emulated so well. Because whenever she noticed someone looking at her, it was panic city with loads and loads of frantic flying and bashing of wings against the bars. But if you didn't look at her, you could stand next to the cage, no problem. Last night eldest son found her clinging to the top bars of the cage. And flitting around like she knew what she was doing. Decision time. There's really only three options 1. The warden's recommendation. 2. Hang on to her until someone was already headed to a rehabilitator's town, and hitch a ride for the bird. Knowing she's unlikely to regain full use of the wing in captivity, and would probably never fly free again. or 3. Let her go, and fare the best she can on her own. Having had a week of food, water and rest to prepare herself. The old, "better one day of freedom than a lifetime of captivity" philosophy. So, today, Tweak took a ride. To the old historical site, which isn't too far from where she was injured, and offers a variety of weedy food seeds and small trees for cover. There, a quick greeting by staff and a tour around to the east side. Open the cage door, and as we were talking, the finch found the gap in her bars, sat in the doorway for a second or two, and then took off. Crookedly, with a decided leftward slant. A controlled landing in the weeds, and our house guest was gone. |
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