Today's planned industry post was completely derailed by an intruder that I found sitting in the backyard this morning. She was alone, not particularly attractive, up to her knees in her own crap and completely incapable of dealing with her situation. Plus she shrieked at me the minute I approached her, wordless but adamant as she demanded that I do something.
No parents appeared to peck me in the head. She wasn't injured but she couldn't fly; she was so little she barely could hop. How she got in the middle of two acres of lawn with no trees within a hundred yards will likely remain a mystery forever (and I did look for her nest for about an hour, with no luck.) She showed no fear of me when I knelt down beside her, though, only opening up her mouth for food.
I had a million things to do, all of them fairly urgent, and none of them could accommodate her. Unlike my daughter, I tend to avoid wild things, and it wasn't like I put her there anyway. As she shrieked at me, I had to decide whether to let nature (and the outdoor felines, raccoons, foxes and possums roaming the neighborhood) take its course, or do something to help this uninvited, bad-tempered, belligerent little madam.
Screw nature, I thought. This chick and I were instant soulmates.
She didn't peck at me or freak out when I lifted her out of the grass to put her in the container. She sat on my palm and chirped, much happier. She seemed ignorant of the fact that I am a member of a far less trustworthy species, or maybe she figured I was her best shot at a chance to live. Which she has now, thanks to the folks at a local wildlife rehab/release center where she'll be residing until she's big enough to handle life on her own. All that cost me was three hours, several phone calls, a couple of bucks in gas, a disposable plastic container and the post I was going to write for today. Not a bad trade.
Now that I have answered the call of nature (Lord, you didn't see that coming?) I'll trade you answers for some questions. Got any for me?