Rest in Peace, Fauntleroy
Sunday afternoon, we came home from the soup kitchen where we've been volunteering and I sent Matthew into the back yard to add seed to the bird feeder. He found sitting on the grass a hummingbird, which we have identified from our bird book (thanks, Ruth!) as a beautiful Sparkling Violetear.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sparkling_Violetear
Hummers don't sit in the grass. They just don't. We knew something had to be wrong and when we approached him to find out what, he tried to get away and it was obvious he had hurt his wing. I took the hummingbird feeder over to him and put it on the grass in front of him and at once he drank heartily. So, he had his wits about him, he was alive and energetic, but had a bum wing. What to do?
At first we put him under a box with the hummingbird feeder -- it was starting to rain and it was cold (for here) and we figured he might be going into shock and need warmth. As it got colder and colder, I decided to pack him into the box with some soft dish towels and we brought him inside.
We have two cats, as you already know, and so the bird had to be somewhere the cats couldn't find him. Marilyn's room, with its perpetually closed door, seemed the logical choice and she took him in. She kept her room warm, kept the feeder near him, and even collected flies to put in the hummingbird feeder after she learned that the sugar water is not a complete diet for hummers. He hopped about a bit and tried to fly, but never quite made it.
Thursday night, she found him dead on her floor. Even then, he was beautiful -- all iridescent blue and green. We buried him today in the garden under the hummingbird feeder. We'll never know how he hurt his wing, but I know that Marilyn gave him the only chance he had to survive. I'm convinced he wouldn't have lived out the night on the grass in the garden.
Rest in peace, Fauntleroy.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sparkling_Violetear
Hummers don't sit in the grass. They just don't. We knew something had to be wrong and when we approached him to find out what, he tried to get away and it was obvious he had hurt his wing. I took the hummingbird feeder over to him and put it on the grass in front of him and at once he drank heartily. So, he had his wits about him, he was alive and energetic, but had a bum wing. What to do?
At first we put him under a box with the hummingbird feeder -- it was starting to rain and it was cold (for here) and we figured he might be going into shock and need warmth. As it got colder and colder, I decided to pack him into the box with some soft dish towels and we brought him inside.
We have two cats, as you already know, and so the bird had to be somewhere the cats couldn't find him. Marilyn's room, with its perpetually closed door, seemed the logical choice and she took him in. She kept her room warm, kept the feeder near him, and even collected flies to put in the hummingbird feeder after she learned that the sugar water is not a complete diet for hummers. He hopped about a bit and tried to fly, but never quite made it.
Thursday night, she found him dead on her floor. Even then, he was beautiful -- all iridescent blue and green. We buried him today in the garden under the hummingbird feeder. We'll never know how he hurt his wing, but I know that Marilyn gave him the only chance he had to survive. I'm convinced he wouldn't have lived out the night on the grass in the garden.
Rest in peace, Fauntleroy.