There’re dangers in getting ‘too attached’. But how can you avoid attachment? Care is what motivated you to take action in the first place, to get involved. Care is motivated by respect and interest in another being, whether that being is on the same scale as yourself or not. Attachment is just when that care becomes habitual, a relationship perhaps. Should we choose not to care? It seems that so many people don’t care, they don’t have the interest or respect or even plain common sense when it comes to dealing with their fellow planet dwellers, even of their own species. Personally, I don’t think that’s a good thing. It must surely be better to care, to have attachment, to show interest, to form relationships even if that means roughing the storms and dealing with pain and hurt.
I thought I would have very bad news to share with you. I don’t know if I’m even really ready to talk about it but I know that many of you have been following the babies’ stories with much interest. And surely you must all realise that not everything has happy endings. When I was a child with an even lower scare threshold than I do now, I would only watch the films from the Mouse Brand because ‘at least there’ll be a happy ending’. As an adult, I know that real life doesn’t, rarely it seems to me sometimes, echo those films.
We care and choose to get involved because we want positive outcomes, to do some good or make a difference. But wanting to steer a future to the positive doesn’t mean we deny in our minds that it might not go that way. Is it wrong to want or dream of happy endings? Probably not. Just sometimes we have to temper our fantasies with reality. And reality can be harsh.
We nearly lost one last night. It came as a great shock to us both. And we found ourselves late at night having to make some very, very, very tough decisions.
It was our little Manky.
In the end, we took the decision to place him in a box overnight and see what happened. Or rather to let nature take its own course even though we desperately didn’t want him to struggle. He was struggling.
We went to bed in tears.
This morning the others woke late, that is twenty to six!
We fed them but couldn’t face opening up the box (it wasn’t sealed, it wasn’t airtight, just the cardboard box that we were first using for their accommodation with the flaps pushed down safe).
Just before seven, we heard something, a little something.
We couldn’t believe it. And almost didn’t.
We heard it a couple more times and summed up the courage to open the flaps and look back inside.
It had been such a tough, long night.
He made it. He was cheeping for his breakfast.
We couldn’t believe it. I think we started crying all over again.
He’s still with us now, having regular feeds and on his own in the ‘hospital ward’ in the bedroom.
We still don’t know what the future holds for him.
I don’t know if we’d brave optimism but we’re going to keep feeding him. And fortunately he doesn’t seem to be ‘struggling’ anymore. We will see.
The other four are strong. It seems.
Feisty seems to have lost interest in flying, maybe he scared himself with one too many crash landings. It was a little concerning but it was reassuring to reflect that when many baby birds are found, especially at ground level, it is because they are fledgers who have lost their energy or whose feathers need a little more developing. He could do with a good preen, that’s for sure. Just got to watch where you put your feet!
Birdie seems to have switched species; he is no longer a cute blue tit baby but a feral pigeon. And you know what I think of those. He’s food motivated, probably that’s why he put the most amount of weight on amongst them all. He’ll divebomb you if you walk in the room, just in case you have anything and he has no shame in stealing food from your own dinner. Lunchtime we ended up putting them all back in the tank just to be able to eat!
All four are getting to self-feeding now. We have little lids all across the back of one of the sofas, by the window where they love to be. The husband’s chocolate spread obsession finally has a use! They have one of water, one of baby food blend, one of mealworms and grubs and one of proper grown up bird food. I think they’re most throwing the seeds around, judging by the evidence. The sofa is totally trashed but fortunately it’s throws that I can wash and even redye so I’m being very docile and letting them get away with certain liberties. Although of course we’re doing as much cleaning as possible. It’s just a little hard when they take to wallowing in the baby food!
We’re also having a hard time keeping them off the cacti. There’s some nasty little fuzzy needled ones too. I don’t like cacti, they’re my husband’s. I especially don’t like them since, when we were decorating last summer in here, my husband wisely left them on the floor. I tripped over one of them and got lots of nasty little needles in my foot. I removed them but wasn’t happy. I was especially not happy when two weeks later my foot started hurting and we discovered several more needles. He also keeps a spiky on the balcony so it can attack me when I hang the washing out. This is not the way to domestic bliss.
Myself, I’ve gone from being a person who had never, ever held a bird before to being someone who can catch them adroitly and who has them perch and poo on me too. Not so keen on the poop. Funny enough. We’re going through baby wipes, hand gel and antibac spray at an alarming rate.
Still can’t keep up with the poop though.
And we’re very exhausted from such a rollercoaster of emotions. Drained.
But this morning when I read the Jester Queen’s latest post, I was very surprised to see my blog (or more technically my blue tits!) nominated for a blog award. Now I’m pretty sure that this blog isn’t ‘lovely’ but I will accept graciously and I do thank her very much indeed, it was just what was needed after such a night and morning.
As it was my blue tit babies that triggered the award, I have set them up a page of their very own. You see up at the top right with the other black buttons?
I am also meant to share seven things about myself that you don’t know about. I think I’ll save that for another day, I’m all written out now.
And I’m also meant to nominate some other bloggers for the award. Although I’d question the use of the verb ‘nominate’ because it is in fact a case of ‘award’, I make the decision and they receive. Nominate would mean I would have to suggest them to a committee or something. OK, pedantic moment other. I’ll do that another day too.
Thank you for reading and thank you Jester Queen.