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The Other Side To Bird Rescue ©By Russ

~Em~



Some mornings are wonderful....Emmalie's (and my) attempts at bird rescue. By the end of the day when you're covered with baby basic formula, bird poop, and scratches galore...it ain't so glamorous. When you sit down at the keyboard and realise a certain bird got there first, and you've got cleaning to do; When you take a count of how many didn't make it through the day, and you've lost over half...the joy starts to fade. When you see the escapees getting picked off by bigger birds who are foraging to feed their young and you're sad not mad 'cause you do understand'. When you find the mealworms that you ordered dead on delivery, the food in the freezer ruined because a tree took down the powerlines and it took forever for PG&E to get it all hooked up again; When a 60 bird flock of migrating band-tailed pigeons drops in and wipes out a month's seed in a few days & you're too damned broke replace it. When you've wracked your brain to find ways to continue feeding all these feather hobos, because after all, you were the ones who created that dependancy, and it's unfair to bail on them now. When you've fed 'critters' to feathered 'critters' (mice, mealworms, crickets etc.) knowing in your heart there ain't no hierarchy to life forms; it all matter it sorta weighs a guy down. When the neighbors swear you're raising chickens for Colonel Saunders, and the vultures circle because of the food you set out for the crows; When your partner comes home from a miserable day trying to makes ends meet because 'you know who' is too damned sick to make it in the work force and finds all these damned disasters have happened, it sorta weighs a guy down. Still, there is the sound of those who made it through the day settling down for the night. There's the sound of the phone ringing and the voice on the other end of the line..saying "I've got a basket of (fill in the blank), can I drop them off in the morning?" There's the constant cooing of countless doves; The sound of the new peacock begging one more handout at the gate, and Emmalie's delighted laughter at this the newest of our hobos..... Sorta lifts me up all over again. So there you have it....our yo yo existance here in birdland.


Russ.....3/30/98





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