Last night we rescued a little baby sparrow (or something) from – quite literally – the jaws of death… well, of Tuffy-cat. If you’re just a bit bigger than a very fluffy pingpong ball, that is a heart-stopping experience.
Thank Heaven, little Flutter-Wings had a strong heart.
This morning, I awoke to the sound of chirping. It was a single chirp, repeated every 30 seconds or so.
As I felt sure this was Mommy and Daddy calling for their little one, we decided to return little Flutter-Wings to Mother Nature. My heart skipped a beat when we slowly opened the door to the guest toilet, fearing that he might have died of starvation or thirst, despite the food and water we’d left for him.
He moved! He even gave a tiny little chirrup.
Much relieved, we carried the box into the garden. Daddy was waiting on the archway. I told him his little one was coming home, and I swear he understood, because he came closer, chirping softly.
We placed the box on the ground under the tree, surrounded by a chorus of chirps from Mommy and Daddy. Then we tiptoed into the house, Richard picking up Tuffy in case she couldn’t resist her hunting instinct.
We stood at the window, watching mesmerized to see what would happen. Amazingly, Daddy hopped onto the edge of the shoebox, chirrupping frantically, then Flutter-Wings hopped up onto the edge with one almighty hop.
And then, all three of them hopped and fluttered away towards the bushes next to the pool. Their nest had to be hidden somewhere around there. We waited to see whether the little one had enough strength to fly up, but he was still too little. Mommy and Daddy took turns flying down to him and up into the hibiscus, chirping encouragement, but no matter how hard little Flutter-Wings tried, he just couldn’t get up there. So they hid him in the ivy…. I think…
As you can imagine, it was really hard to go to work this morning. I would have preferred to set up camp at the window, keeping an eye on our adorable little bird-family, re-united once more.