I had a bad night – dreaming and worrying in my dreams about Tweet-Tweetums-Tweet (aka Tweet2)
I was right to be worried, waking at 06:00, I hurried downstairs to find him nearly dead – cold and with a lolling head, barely breathing.
So I spent the next few hours getting him back on his feet and was beginning to feel hopeful that we might be maybe slightly, even perhaps, moving forward.
We put a black and white toy in his box to sort of look like a relative. It was mostly ignored or used it as an escape route if possible.
I put some tweety sounds on a loop so birdsong was all around him, like in the wild. Tweet2 was enthusiastically tweeting in reply. He was becoming more and more active, running around his box on his little legs. It was wonderful to see.
Things were going in and coming out, the right colour and consistency – Floss and I worked hard all morning keeping him warm, full of food and happy.
And then suddenly, totally unexpectedly, Tweet2 quickly downhill and died. So Rest in Peace Tweet-Tweetums-Tweet. We tried our hardest. I spent every minute looking up various care procedures for wild birds and realise the odds were very low.
So, to try and cheer ourselves up, Floss and I went over to see the chaps in Sandness.
Always good therapy.
We did our best. I hope we didn’t do anything wrong. I am always happy to learn.
Tweet2 is buried under the comfrey in the garden.