We do this for life

Are you my mother?

A small ornamental tree held a Mockingbird fledgling and I couldn’t resist a few photos while I delivered some paperwork on campus.

Isn’t she lovely?

I can’t differentiate between male and female Mockingbirds, so I’m calling it a she.

Isn't she wonderful?

She was spreading her wings and practicing feisty Mockingbird behavior. Mom was looking on, so I went back inside. I’ve had enough experiences with Mockingbirds to know it’s right for me to back off.

An hour later, I took my camera with me to run another errand on campus. This time, I saw something strange and decided to tip-toe through fire ant mounds to investigate. Mother was frantic while she carried food to an unusual place. This was odd…

She was perched on the rail of an enclosure in the middle of the courtyard. I knew a baby was in there and I was willing to help.

My heart sank. I cursed. Inside the enclosure was a storm drain covered with a large, heavy grate. There, three feet below, was the young Mockingbird perched on a white drain pipe, above stagnated water, looking up and calling out. She had flown into the enclosure and fell through the grate with no way out. Here, I had a photo opportunity but passed on it. How could I have exploited a small bird that…might…die in there? No. I had to get back to the office.

I would have used all of my strength to lift that grate and lower myself into the pit if no one else would help. But I wanted help. I sent an e-mail to three people and while I waited for replies, I watered the lobby plants with tears in my eyes, wondering why I always find myself rescuing birds and worrying like this? And why am I so damned teary about it?! Bluebirds, Mockingbirds, anything. Maybe I’d be better off living my life with blinders on. But then, I’d miss soooo much love and life – and this is why.

Within a few minutes, Doug came looking for me. I knew it wasn’t a good day for him and he was knee-deep in work issues but he found me. He’s my retired cop buddy and closest friend at the college. Doug doesn’t look sweet and soft-hearted but he is! I didn’t get a photo of him but he looks exactly like a BOB:

I took him to the scene and while we were figuring what to do, the housekeeping ladies, who were finishing an outdoor lunch, came to inquire. They didn’t understand how I knew a young bird was trapped, nor did they know a Mockingbird from a hawk, but they were concerned and happy to fetch a broom, dustpan, and shovel. Yvonne ran to us with a grabber thingy that you’d use for picking up lawn trash. It was the perfect tool.

Sweet “Doug E. Fresh” lifted the grate and gently and carefully raised the little Mockingbird to safety - unharmed. She fought a good fight but he won. With Mockingbird Mom looking on, I chased the baby away from the area and let her rest under a shady tree.

They asked me to take their picture:

Their hearts were full. One lady commented, “I can’t wait to tell my son what I did today!”

We had a five-minute party.

We celebrated!

Their radio was playing Amy Winehouse’s “Rehab” and I said, “Crank that baby up!” We danced cha-cha and slow jam with arms in the air. We were smoooooth.

Then we got too hot and all agreed to get back inside and do some work.

Life was good. We saved one.

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Since Wednesday, I've had two hours of internet time. I don't know how long it will last. I'm keeping fingers crossed to be in touch with everyone :o) My withdrawal will be a subject of another post.