My Lonely City

I rescued some starling chicks today! They had fallen from their nest into our backyard. I was so sad when I saw them on our lawn, looking small, lost, and scraggly.

I called WildCare yesterday evening, after giving them a day to try to get back on their own, and they told me what to do. (WildCare is an awesome animal hospital/facility in Noble that rehabilitates wild animals for re-release.) Since the nest is actually inside my neighbors’ dryer vent it was inaccessible; they had me put the babies in a cushioned basket near the nest to see if the parents would find them and move house. If it didn’t work, the woman I spoke with told me to bring them to their facility.

My husband helped me tie a basket to our fence, sheltered by a trumpet vine; I put on some gardening gloves (I’ve heard, but can’t verify, that parent birds will reject chicks who smell like humans) and placed them carefully in the basket. They were frightened and upset, but they knew they were in a nest again; they opened their yellow-envelope beaks wide and cheep-cheeped with gusto. I left them there, hoping for the best, and kept my distance the rest of the evening. I checked in the morning, and they were there; I hoped that by the evening the adults would have found and fed them.

When I arrived back home, they were still in the nest, but they barely moved and made no sound. They panted – I haven’t seen birds pant before (that’s what it looked like to me). I decided to take them to the animal hospital. As we drove, I watched the birds. They were afraid but curious, continually raising their heads to look out the window, huddling together, opening their beaks silently for food. One cheeped, once or twice, but that was all. They were not “adorable”. Their feathers are starting to grow, so they look rough and prickly; their quills look like straw wrappers with black fuzz poking out the top. Their yellow beaks looked too wide for their heads, opening and closing like folded paper. Their baby fuzz poofed like a halo around their heads. They were such small, perfect, beautifully strange things.

At the hospital, the interns were knowledgeable and kind; the babies are in good hands. Since WildCare’s objective is to release their animals into the wild at the appropriate time, I feel they will have a good life. I told the parents what I’d done, but – since I don’t speak Starling – they are probably, like me, still wondering, perhaps grieving, asking why their children were taken from them.