The Bird (Part 3): Gone To A Better Place

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Thomas the bird has gone to a better place. No, he didn't die! We took him to a licensed songbird rehabilitation specialist. Who knew there was such a thing. We were all kind of sad to see him go, but we know that this is for the best. He grew a good bit while he was with us. He put on some weight and some feathers, and he opened his eyes. It was a lot easier to feed him when he wasn't groping around for the food with his eyes closed. 

Thus concludes the saga of Thomas the bird...unless we get an update from the rehab lady.

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The Bird (Part 2): His Name Is Thomas

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Just so you know, that's part of the food that didn't make it in the front end..

Who cooked breakfast for a mockingbird nestling this morning? 

This guy.

Who was worried that the bird didn't want to wake up and eat this morning? 

This guy.

Who downloaded bird calls to his phone to try to wake up the bird this morning? 

Yep! This guy. 

Who finds this whole thing utterly ridiculous?

You. I'm sure.

By the way, his name is Thomas. I don't know why. I hope he's a boy. We have a tom cat that comes around begging for food. The kids call him Elizabeth. Must be why he's so mean.

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The Bird (Part 1)

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This isn't my usual fare, but I thought I'd share anyway. Vivian and a friend were playing in the back yard this morning when I heard some excited commotion. Garrett came in and exclaimed, "We found a baby bird!" I was immediately annoyed. Maybe it's my introverted personality or simply my sin nature, but I hate to be interrupted. Don't let that scare you off from calling or emailing me, though. It's more about comfort than it is about anything else. Whew! Confession is good for the soul.


Anyway, God must be working on me in this. My immediate reaction was:

"Put it back where you found it."

   "Birds have diseases."

What I was really thinking was:

"Maybe we should just let the bird die. Isn't that the whole Circle-of-Life, Survival-of-the-fittest thing?"

We put it back in the yard for a while, but I was really conflicted about it. I didn't feel right about just letting a defenseless bird die in the yard. Melissa did some research on the interwebs about how to care for a nestling. Since we couldn't find its nest, we did the next best thing: We got a shoebox and made a nest for it.

Melissa also contacted a local wildlife rehab volunteer who did not volunteer to take care of this bird. She gave us some instructions to care for the bird and suggested that it might be a bluejay, cowbird, or a mockingbird. We decided that it was a mocking bird and so the kids are super excited that we are nursing the Texas State Bird to health.

I don't know what the future holds for this bird, but we are going to take care of it as long as we can. I don't want to over-spiritualize the thing, but I'm struck once again by how dependent that bird is on the [hand] that feeds it. Kind of like us, I guess.

I admit that I get a bit excited to feed it when it looks up and opens its mouth. It's quite satisfying. After we feed him, he starts chirping. Vivian says he's worshiping. Maybe he is.

What should we name the bird?

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