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.
You did your very best – that’s all anyone can do. RIP Tweety 2…
Brilliant idea to visit with your other “babies” – life goes on!
Frances you tried your best and gave him the best chance, our garden is full of our failures but every now and again one makes it and it makes it all worth it.
Trying to save a life is never a failure. And thanks to you and Floss, the birdie spent his last hours surrounded by love. Well done girls!
You did your best, and gave this tiny creature love. Birds (esp. baby ones) are so difficult to rescue — it usually ends in tears. But I once had a hummingbird, which I was holding gently in my hands to warm it, fly away (it had fallen from an oak tree while in a state of torpor, and woke up with the warmth). Made my heart sing! You never know….
So sorry to hear he didn’t make it. Not a failure at all. You did your very best for him.
I am sure you did everything right. Wild babies are so hard and so seldom successful, it is heartbreaking.
But high marks for trying.
Cheers Peter
You gave a young one comfort and warmth; that is never a failure.
Thanks again for reminding me of what kindness looks like.
so sorry the little one did not make it but you did all you could.
Trying is not a failure. Babies are hard when the mom is gone. Birds are hard to keep going. You tried hard and that counts. Go kiss as many foalios as you can today.