First off, sorry for the blurry snap. And actually, Pepper didn’t bring the little guy inside. I was sitting in the kitchen and saw Pepper in the yard with the bird in his mouth and the thing was making a helluva racket as I attempted to chase Pep down and/or get him to drop the distressed creature. Eventually Pepper did relinquish his quarry and I was pleased to find the bird physically uninjured. It remains to be seen if the stress of the ordeal will do it in or if — like most every other baby bird I’ve tried to raise — it will succumb to some illness and die. But for now it’s residing quietly in a shoe box on my desk. A few minutes ago I attempted to feed it a combo of Gerber’s creamed spinach/rice with bananas and it took a little bit down. If it survives the night I’ll hit a pet store tomorrow for some worms and crickets or something similar and more substantial. Mmmm… worm and cricket smoothie. Yum.
Given my history with raising baby avians I don’t hold out much hope for success, but I’ll give it my usual best shot. Fortunately it’s not too young. It’s definitely close to fledgling age and very close to full flight (as I found out when I was trying to feed it) so it might be a little heartier than something comparitively younger. Still, the odds are against it.
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