Crow update

It was back, today, the unfortunate, broken crow. It was here, just a minute ago, and, oh, that poor bird! It lay in the feeder, half on its side, all horrible and unpreened, eyes glazed and mucky, filling itself with the suet I’d put out, specially for it — just in case it was alive, and somehow made its way here. (Suet is a high-energy snack. A bird in that state, it seems to me, needs all the energy it can get.) I think its leg’s the problem, more than its wing. It can’t seem to stand, at all; it must have broken a bone. It must be in a terrible amount of pain. I think it could survive, though, if it gets enough to eat, and doesn’t get eaten, itself. I had a budgie, once, before I decided keeping pet birds wasn’t the kindest thing to do, and that only had one leg. Or, rather, it had two, but a rat bit one, and it went all withery and useless. That budgie lasted at least another five or six years, and it was well into middle age when I got it, so maybe, with luck, the crow might fare so well.

Of course, it would have a better stab at survival, if someone could set that leg. I tried to catch it, when it came to the feeder, but it finished eating before I got close enough to throw my coat over it. I’m not sure I could’ve gone much faster, though. It kept looking up at me. Any sudden moves, and it might have flown away without finishing its meal, and that would’ve been even worse. That particular crow is not, under ordinary circumstances, afraid of me. It usually lands right next to me, practically ON me, when I’m filling up the feeder. It scolds, when I take the feeder away, for a wash. But today, it seemed wary. Probably, it felt vulnerable. I wish I could explain to it that I could take it somewhere good, where someone would fix it up, if it would only stand still, and let me wrap it in my coat.

I wonder if I might rig something up — a box with a string attached, perhaps — that could be pulled down, trapping the crow, should it manage another visit. Of course, that could end up hurting it, if the edge of the box knocked it on the head. I wish I had one of those nets they use to trap birds for ringing; those are safe, right? Well, no use speculating; I can’t imagine where I’d lay my hands on one of those. I’ll have to try with the box, and hope a curious gull doesn’t pull the bally thing over on itself.

No pictures, today: I was more interested in catching the crow than in recording its plight. Besides, no-one likes to be snapped when they’re feeling like death warmed over.

Poor crow!

A bird I couldn’t help

A most unfortunate thing happened, today: I think a crow has died, or soon will. It came flumping down onto the roof across from mine, about two hours ago, clearly in distress, dragging a wing and a foot. I think it might’ve collided with something, or been struck by a car. I rang up Wildlife Rescue, of course, as soon as I saw it, but they said they couldn’t come out to trap an injured animal — too uncertain; building access might not be possible; the animal might escape; trip made for nothing, all that sort of thing. If I wanted their help, I’d have to catch the crow, myself, and bring it in. Clearly a no-go. I tried building management, next, to see if they might be able to grab it and box it up, but it seems there’s a different company in charge of that building; the best they could do was try and get in touch. Not to be deterred, I put on my coat and shoes, marched next door, snuck in behind somebody else…and found myself thwarted once again, when the door to the roof turned out to be locked. I went back down, and hunted through the building directory for the manager’s number, but no dice. Foiled, I went back inside.

If he could just get himself up to my balcony, I could grab him and help him!

If he could just get himself up to my balcony, I could grab him and help him!

When I got there, a gull had discovered the crow, and was pecking it. I didn’t see what happened, next. The crow dragged itself away, and behind a steam pipe. I think it must’ve fallen off the roof, at that point, because the gull backed off. Either that, or it’s still there, crippled and dying. There’s no way to be certain. I went down again, to look for it in the street, but if it did fall down, it promptly hid.



I hope someone finds it, before it’s too late.

A bird one might yet help

Puffins are also having a terrible time, lately, and on a much grander scale. Read all about it at 10,000 Birds, then get involved here. Don’t you want to adopt your own fat, happy puffin? Sure, you do.