Animal Rescue

Rescuing animals is a big deal in the Bazar/Brewer household thanks to Diego. When we were at Stinson Beach last summer, Anya and Kadin set up a snail rescue center on top of an empty cooler which was sitting in the sun. There were lots of snails and they didn't seem to really want to be rescued. In fact the whole rescue center seemed to be about catching the snails, bringing them to the cooler and then catching them as they tried to escape. The snails were frantic, as much as snails can be frantic, trying to get to the shade. When the landlord came to check us out, he was very pleased with the rescue center and hoped that the whole population of snails would be similarly rescued thus saving his garden from destruction.

But today I had my own rescue center. Leroy who had come to work found a baby robin under the oak in the driveway. We ohhhhed and ahhhed and wondered what to do and finally decided to pick it up and put it back in the tree. As we leaned over to pick it up, it's mouth opened so that it became just an open mouth, so hungry and hopeful and then suddenly the mother robin dive bombed us. Such a brave heart, she came back and dive bombed again. We picked the baby up and then realized it couldn't sit by itself in the tree. We put it on the big rock hoping that was enough room so that it wouldn't fall off, but it floundered around while the mama cheeped and peeped and flew around distraught. It started to fall off the edge and I ran and got it. More dilemma. Leroy found a hubcap and we stuffed it with grass and moss and wedged it in the crotch of the tree. That was it. I had to go to Hayfork and Leroy was off to work. Before I left I climbed a ladder and checked the baby. It didn't look good. It was breathing but lying flat and not peeping or moving. It seemed like it was lying on its back which I particularly thought was a bad sign, since I really don't think birds sleep on their backs.

The first thing I did when I got home was to look in the nest, and whoa! the baby bird was gone. I searched all around the tree to see if it had fallen out but found no sign. I made up a number of senarios. The mother came and coaxed it out of the nest and to safety. That's the best one. It fell and I didn't see it the body.   It fell and the cats ate it. I just tried to interest Fat Cat in a dead mouse and he couldn't have cared less. Sniffed it and walked away. Perhaps  bigger bird came and snatched it and ate it. Blame the jays for that. Leroy mentioned the jays push baby birds out of their nests. To what end I'm not sure, but I'm always ready to blame them for anything--they are loud, raucous and mostly obnoxious neighbors.

So ended my animal rescue efforts with uncertain results. Interfering in nature is always an iffy and hazardous. That big mouth and the mamma's brave heart are images will encourage me.  The urge to live.