Bumblebee Blog

Benjamin and I were sitting in the family room yesterday afternoon around 5:30 p.m. when there was a large collision into one of the big back picture windows. A bird had crashed into the window. And Miss P (our cat) happened to be on the scene to pick up the casualty, a mourning dove.

We love the sounds of the mourning doves in the trees, with their soft cooing. They always appear in lazy looking pairs at the bird feeding station, like little old couples out for a stroll.

So fortunately, Ben saw Miss P in action and ran outside to retrieve the poor bird from where she had dragged it under the deck. Ben seemed to think that the sudden action of several birds flying into the direction of the house from the feeding station several yards away meant that Miss P was not just there by coincidence.

Sadly, cats will be cats. But fortunately, I think that Ben saved this bird.

It seemed to be in shock from the collision, as there were not apparent external injuries. (Miss P had not had time to do her dirty work.)

It reminded us of the time when Sarah, our younger Papillon, was a puppy and plunged from the upstairs balcony 15′ or so from the second floor. She was dazed and just crouched on the floor trying to regain her senses for several minutes. (I’m not sure she ever did!)

We put Poor Bird into a bucket and into an out-of-the-way, cat-free zone outside.

Later, he seemed to perk up a bit and started hopping around. That wasn’t actually a good thing since it put him in harm’s way. In fact, Miss P took another run at him before I could capture her and put her in the house. Then Sophie, our other little Papillon, chased Poor Bird underneath the butterfly bush.

The whole time, Ben spent hovering over the bird to keep away all the hostile beasts that live in our house.

Poor Bird finally hopped under the tree and later disappeared. There were no pools of feathers and all the killer Papillons and cats were inside, so we’re hoping he regained his senses and was able to fly away with his friends, and perhaps back to his mate.

I will always be on the lookout now for a mourning dove with a slighly askew tail feather–our Poor Bird.

On the bluebird front…Our couple is happily tending to their four little eggs. I expect we’ll have hatchinglings in about another week or so.

It’s a humorous site to see Bluebird Mom’s head sticking out the front door of the bluebird house, waiting patiently for Mr. Bluebird to return with some goodies.

We have stared putting wiggly meal worms into a platform feeder a few feet from the bluebird house. They are a BIG HIT–at least the ones that don’t wiggle down and fall on the ground into my squash patch.

Such is the life here in the country. At least Ben is not a part of that cohort of children who, according to an article in the Washington Post this week, are “losing touch with nature.” He even told me during our mourning dove escapade that Poor Bird had scampered under the hydrangea bush. HE KNEW WHAT THE BUSH WAS!!! Go figure. I suppose that sometimes he actually IS listening.

Ciao!

Robin