Our oldest son found a little life form in a creek bed in Clay County. Apparently it had lost a wing sometime during its stay in the nest because there is no sign of injury where the wing should be, just no wing. It has to have been fed on the ground by its parents for it to have survived and for it to have had the strength to hum that little left wing when it was handed to me.
The grandson looked up how to feed hummingbirds on the Internet. In case you are wondering, sugar water is not a sufficient source of nutrients for the little critters. The article suggested mashing up fruit flies and mixing that in with the sugar water. Oh boy. And the little one needs to be fed several times in each hour. Rolling eyes and being thankful that I am a human and not a bird parent. So, a little gravy off the dog food (hoping all the while that there is not too much salt or something of that nature in the mix) has now been added to a cup of nectar and a medicine dropper inserted in the cage so the little one can drink at will. Yet each time I return to check to see if it needs to be fed or moved, the little thing has gone to “high ground.” High ground, in this case, is just the fold of a soft paper towel that is lying on the bottom of a cage. The cage, by the way, is to protect the bird from the curious cat.
If it lives through the night and Sunday, we will try to contact a bird sanctuary on Monday. I vaguely remember reading about a “bird lady” in our local paper. Shaking head and wondering how anyone can take care of more than a few baby birds, much less something no bigger than the end of my thumb.
We have all seen someone who has had a severe physical or mental handicap who has gone on to live a useful life. Recently a dog was shown on the Web that had only its two back legs and yet got around pretty well despite its lack of two extra legs. Then there was the young mother who had no arms and was taking care of her baby with her feet. Amazing! Yet we can see these folks and that dog with just a glance. This little bit of fluff with a long tongue just barely shows up. Even so, holding it in my hand and feeling the life pulsing there creates a sense of awe almost as special as when we first held that son who brought home yet another little creature. How could we not love them—child and creature alike?