So Much for Being Birdie Super Heros

A few weeks ago, I was doing some yard work. We had a LOT of tall weeds, and I finally learned how to use a weed wacker and edger. It was a proud moment. Anyway, while I was doing it, I noticed a dove following me around collecting my clippings and building a nest between our house and the neighbors'. She was a pretty dove, and I was excited about the prospects of seeing baby doves this summer. If nothing else, I figured a dove family would be far more interesting to watch than the mocking bird family living in our neighbors' dryer vent. I'm pretty sure those mocking birds are the same ones who lived in my bush for years and constantly dive-bombed me until I finally cut down their bush. Dumb birds.

Anwyay, this past week, we noticed one of the baby doves had fallen from the tree and was hopping around on the ground. He had most of his feathers in, but also quite a bit of baby bird fuzz. When we looked closer at him, we could see a sore spot on his neck. It wasn't bleeding, just sore. His legs looked to be just fine and he was squaking away looking for food. He was RIGHT below the nest the doves had built.

My kids and the kids next door became very worried about him. What if his mama didn't come for him? What if some mean-spirited predator came and ate him? The list of possibilities went on and on. Everyone was VERY concerned about this little guy.

Since he was hopping around, but not able to fly, I scooped him up to check on him making sure nothing seemed to be broken on him. He opened his mouth wide and waited for something to fall in. The kids next door had a great idea. They had just been fishing and had some worms left over. They figured they could just put those worms in the blender and then drip the remains into the bird's mouth using a medicine dropper. For some strange reason, their mom wouldn't allow them to use her blender to puree their worms.

The King came out and the Dr. Doolittle in him kicked in. This guy is such a sucker for animals. He even makes friends with the stray lizards that roam around here in the spring and fall. Honestly, I could do without the lizards IN the house. Anyway, I digress. The King was just as worried about the little bird as the kids were. He named him Chirpy. That seemed fitting, I guess. He held him, talked to him, chirped with him, and I think he even considered using my blender to puree the worm. Surprisingly, I said no.

We called a friend who knows a lot about birds. She gave us some tips, but told us to call someone local because each state is different. I got hold of a scout leader, who told me the mother would care for her baby if we put him back in the nest. Hooray!!!! We could save Chirpy!!! This was one baby dove who wouldn't die out in the cold lonely world. The King was going to rescue him.

The nest was waaaaaaay up there in the tree, so we borrowed a tall ladder from another neighbor. We had to position the ladder a bunch of different time in order to make it stable enough to hold the King, and allow him to balance well enough to hold Chirpy in his hand while he climbed. Can you just imagine how bad it would have been if he'd accidentally squished him to death during his moment of heroism???

Finally! After an hour of trying to help Chirpy, he was safely in his nest high up in the tree. We were proud. I immediately ran inside and downloaded the pictures I'd taken of him, and posted them for my friends to see, particularly the ones who were bird gurus. Here are the pictures I sent:





Isn't he just the cutest little baby dove???

It didn't take long after I posted his pictures that my bird loving friends started saying things like "Hmmm...are you sure he's a dove?" or "Umm...do you also have a picture of his mom?" or "Just out of curiosity, what other kinds of birds live there?". I was almost offended. Of COURSE I was sure he was a dove. I saw his mom building the nest using my fresh weed clippings. Duh! And besides, the only other birds we have here were the stupid mocking birds in the dryer vent. The dryer vent was a good twenty feet away from the dove tree, so I knew Chirpy couldn't have come from there. He was too dang cute. Well, in an ugly baby bird sort of way.

My friends quietly continued doing their research. Then, it was undeniable. A picture of a baby mockingbird was found on Google Images. How could THAT thing be?!?!? It looked just like Chirpy!!! My baby dove was a baby mockingbird!!

Do you know what this means??? In our efforts to rescue a baby dove, we traumatized an unsuspecting baby mockingbird and shoved him into the wrong nest!!! Imagine the shock on the mother dove's face when she came home. Actually, it may not have mattered. Chirpy and all his brothers and sisters were hopping around on the ground behind a bush the next day.