My bird Little Bud just died. Well, he wasn't really mine, he wasn't any bodies. I've barely mentioned him on here and now I regret that so much.
I can't stop crying. He wasn't even mine. He was only his.
* * *
On May 24th I was off on a home visit when there was a funny, very tiny bird sitting in the middle of the road. I picked it up and after checking I was right, I moved him to the nearest patch of grass and in some shade, then walked back to my car. He followed me and sat behind me as I got in. When I saw him I asked him what he was doing and he proceeded to run (ish) into the road so I sort of escorted him across the road and left him under one of our bushes. I let my brother know where he was (by which time the bird had moved himself again) and went back to my car. By this time the bird has started to make its way round the side of the house. I left him under the capable supervision of my dad and my brother ad went on my way.
When I came home they filled me in. The bird had gone round the side of the house and thrown itself in our pond, so my dad had had to fish him out. Dad put him in an open topped box with some hay (so mumma bird could still come find him when he called). This was all well and good until the bird jumped out the box and then straight back in the pond. Next went on a mesh lid so mumma could still find him and he couldn't try and drown himself anymore times.
No mumma came for him so we brought him in overnight (because we have a very good bird catching cat) and put him in a clear sided gerbil cage (all we could find at short notice). And we proceeded with the feeding. Roughly every 15 minutes we did it, a mix of egg yolk, chicken cat food, beheaded mealworms and sometimes worms. The next day he went back outside to try and tempt mum back but nope, no mum. By this time he was our responsibility.
We carried on feeding him that regularly during daylight hours and also into the night when the lights were on. We woke up every morning expecting him to be dead.
After a couple of days we managed to locate the cage we used when we last had a wild bird (Spike, back in 1989-that's right). The cage was manky, but we didn't expect to use it for long. The bird didn't like it much and kept rubbing its beak out the gaps, leading to a funny little baldy bit on his head.
It could only 'fly' in a running sort of way about 3ft.
Our aim was to try to keep it alive long enough to teach it the skills it needed and release it.
We had NO idea what type of bird this was. It was so teeny tiny, much smaller than a sparrow baby. Dad would sit with the bird book for hours every night asking the bird what it was.
After a week mum said that we needed a name and I said he's called Little Bud and from then on he was (or versions thereof Buddish, Budly, UdderlyBudderly).
He got stronger and the days turned into weeks, and he became very attached. He would nestle and sleep on our heads, or in my hair, or in the bakcs of our necks. I started to take him outside to teach him where to find different foods and he wouldn't be parted from me, as soon as I put him somewhere he could come back and sit on my head on nestle in my neck.
He then got to where he could fly a bit and would fly into trees. A baby birds instinct is to go where it wants and mum would follow. Bud was very confused as to why I couldn't follow properly. He would call for me and come and try to make me go but obviously I couldn't sit at the top of the tree, and eventually he would come back.
One day though, the cat happened to be out and caught Little Bud, but thankfully my brother saw straight away and Bud was a bit shocked (once we found him in the undergrowth) but none the worse for wear.
It was then we started shutting the cat in the kitchen whenever Bud was out and we let Bud out at every opportunity. We taught him to come to the sound of a knife on a plate and so if we ever needed to get him back (like if the cat escaped) we could.
Time went on and Bud became semi wild again but when he was done being 'wild' he would fly through the patio doors and land in the living room, then call for his cage (which we used as an outside base for him) to be brought back and then go to sleep in there.
He would still come out in the house too and because we had taught him to come to a knife on a plate he would come whenever there was food of any sort. He stole things like lettuce, baked beans, noodles from me, strawberry out of my mum's fingers, toast from my dad's plate. He was a right little scrounger, but a VERY cute one. He also liked to collect hay, one day deciding my shoulder was a good place to make a nest with it. :rollseyes
We finally figured out that he was in fact a garden warbler and they are in our area from April to July whn they go to Africa (yes, Africa). We expected Little Bud to up and off to Africa, but all that happened was that he would stay out for longer yet still come back when he was done, nevermore than a three hours.
My parent went away this week and I knew I wouldn't be able to let him out as much as normal (because someone had to be here when he was out because the back door had to be open) so nagged my parents for a biger cage. Little Bud got a HUGE upgrade last week, as well as some tasty new foods. He didn't get out much this week what with me being out and also the weather being shocking (if anyone was going to drown in rain it would be Budly).
Yesterday he stunned himself, I think on the window but I'm not sure. He was quiet but nothing major. Today I put him in the cage outside and opened the door so that, for the first time in a week he could feel som proper fresh air under his wings. I went inside and when I went back out to check him his leg was mashed. It looks like he got it caught on the cage door that flaps down in front and they can stand on it.
I brought my Bud back inside, sorted him out a fleece and some close food and water and stayed with him, spoke to him, stroked him. Sometimes he 'talked' back to me in his little chunter that he only did for me. then I had to pop out, so I moved him into a box with all the stuff. I also gave him a bit of water.
By the time I returned he had died.
I picked him up and cried and couldn't put hm down for ages. I serisouly let this little guy down, and my family, who all loved him just as much.
I HATE this year for birds. When we had had Bud about 3 weeks mum said to me maybe he had come to heal me.
I had already thoguht about it and wondered if it was true.
Let me explain, before Bud I had taken a wood pigeon with a mangled wing to be PTS, I had run over a squirrel, I had caught and dealt with the cats caught blackbird baby. Worse still one day the cat bought in a half dead balckbird baby and so for the baby I killed it. As humanely as I could and felt so very guilty after.
I felt I should have tried to save it, or it could have lived, or something. I wrote a post secret style secret on another website and posted it. That day was the day I found Bud.
Since Bud we have dealt with another 3 dead baby birds caught by the cat (a sparrow, another blackbird and a collared dove).
Bud was my friend, my companion, my bud. And I let him down. I haven't killed a rabbit in a while so apparently had to kill something else. I don't think he came to heal me, right now it feels like someone gave me this little gift and then really kicked me when I was down by taking it away when I needed a friend the most.
I have some brilliant footage but I'm not sorting through that now.
I just can't believe I did this to him. He was so special.
Little Bud, I'm am so so sorry.
Fly Free Budly. Fly Free.
I can't stop crying. He wasn't even mine. He was only his.
* * *
On May 24th I was off on a home visit when there was a funny, very tiny bird sitting in the middle of the road. I picked it up and after checking I was right, I moved him to the nearest patch of grass and in some shade, then walked back to my car. He followed me and sat behind me as I got in. When I saw him I asked him what he was doing and he proceeded to run (ish) into the road so I sort of escorted him across the road and left him under one of our bushes. I let my brother know where he was (by which time the bird had moved himself again) and went back to my car. By this time the bird has started to make its way round the side of the house. I left him under the capable supervision of my dad and my brother ad went on my way.
When I came home they filled me in. The bird had gone round the side of the house and thrown itself in our pond, so my dad had had to fish him out. Dad put him in an open topped box with some hay (so mumma bird could still come find him when he called). This was all well and good until the bird jumped out the box and then straight back in the pond. Next went on a mesh lid so mumma could still find him and he couldn't try and drown himself anymore times.
No mumma came for him so we brought him in overnight (because we have a very good bird catching cat) and put him in a clear sided gerbil cage (all we could find at short notice). And we proceeded with the feeding. Roughly every 15 minutes we did it, a mix of egg yolk, chicken cat food, beheaded mealworms and sometimes worms. The next day he went back outside to try and tempt mum back but nope, no mum. By this time he was our responsibility.
We carried on feeding him that regularly during daylight hours and also into the night when the lights were on. We woke up every morning expecting him to be dead.
After a couple of days we managed to locate the cage we used when we last had a wild bird (Spike, back in 1989-that's right). The cage was manky, but we didn't expect to use it for long. The bird didn't like it much and kept rubbing its beak out the gaps, leading to a funny little baldy bit on his head.
It could only 'fly' in a running sort of way about 3ft.
Our aim was to try to keep it alive long enough to teach it the skills it needed and release it.
We had NO idea what type of bird this was. It was so teeny tiny, much smaller than a sparrow baby. Dad would sit with the bird book for hours every night asking the bird what it was.
After a week mum said that we needed a name and I said he's called Little Bud and from then on he was (or versions thereof Buddish, Budly, UdderlyBudderly).
He got stronger and the days turned into weeks, and he became very attached. He would nestle and sleep on our heads, or in my hair, or in the bakcs of our necks. I started to take him outside to teach him where to find different foods and he wouldn't be parted from me, as soon as I put him somewhere he could come back and sit on my head on nestle in my neck.
He then got to where he could fly a bit and would fly into trees. A baby birds instinct is to go where it wants and mum would follow. Bud was very confused as to why I couldn't follow properly. He would call for me and come and try to make me go but obviously I couldn't sit at the top of the tree, and eventually he would come back.
One day though, the cat happened to be out and caught Little Bud, but thankfully my brother saw straight away and Bud was a bit shocked (once we found him in the undergrowth) but none the worse for wear.
It was then we started shutting the cat in the kitchen whenever Bud was out and we let Bud out at every opportunity. We taught him to come to the sound of a knife on a plate and so if we ever needed to get him back (like if the cat escaped) we could.
Time went on and Bud became semi wild again but when he was done being 'wild' he would fly through the patio doors and land in the living room, then call for his cage (which we used as an outside base for him) to be brought back and then go to sleep in there.
He would still come out in the house too and because we had taught him to come to a knife on a plate he would come whenever there was food of any sort. He stole things like lettuce, baked beans, noodles from me, strawberry out of my mum's fingers, toast from my dad's plate. He was a right little scrounger, but a VERY cute one. He also liked to collect hay, one day deciding my shoulder was a good place to make a nest with it. :rollseyes
We finally figured out that he was in fact a garden warbler and they are in our area from April to July whn they go to Africa (yes, Africa). We expected Little Bud to up and off to Africa, but all that happened was that he would stay out for longer yet still come back when he was done, nevermore than a three hours.
My parent went away this week and I knew I wouldn't be able to let him out as much as normal (because someone had to be here when he was out because the back door had to be open) so nagged my parents for a biger cage. Little Bud got a HUGE upgrade last week, as well as some tasty new foods. He didn't get out much this week what with me being out and also the weather being shocking (if anyone was going to drown in rain it would be Budly).
Yesterday he stunned himself, I think on the window but I'm not sure. He was quiet but nothing major. Today I put him in the cage outside and opened the door so that, for the first time in a week he could feel som proper fresh air under his wings. I went inside and when I went back out to check him his leg was mashed. It looks like he got it caught on the cage door that flaps down in front and they can stand on it.
I brought my Bud back inside, sorted him out a fleece and some close food and water and stayed with him, spoke to him, stroked him. Sometimes he 'talked' back to me in his little chunter that he only did for me. then I had to pop out, so I moved him into a box with all the stuff. I also gave him a bit of water.
By the time I returned he had died.
I picked him up and cried and couldn't put hm down for ages. I serisouly let this little guy down, and my family, who all loved him just as much.
I HATE this year for birds. When we had had Bud about 3 weeks mum said to me maybe he had come to heal me.
I had already thoguht about it and wondered if it was true.
Let me explain, before Bud I had taken a wood pigeon with a mangled wing to be PTS, I had run over a squirrel, I had caught and dealt with the cats caught blackbird baby. Worse still one day the cat bought in a half dead balckbird baby and so for the baby I killed it. As humanely as I could and felt so very guilty after.
I felt I should have tried to save it, or it could have lived, or something. I wrote a post secret style secret on another website and posted it. That day was the day I found Bud.
Since Bud we have dealt with another 3 dead baby birds caught by the cat (a sparrow, another blackbird and a collared dove).
Bud was my friend, my companion, my bud. And I let him down. I haven't killed a rabbit in a while so apparently had to kill something else. I don't think he came to heal me, right now it feels like someone gave me this little gift and then really kicked me when I was down by taking it away when I needed a friend the most.
I have some brilliant footage but I'm not sorting through that now.
I just can't believe I did this to him. He was so special.
Little Bud, I'm am so so sorry.
Fly Free Budly. Fly Free.
