…an Eastern phoebe (at left), according to the expert bird identifiers at the Cornell Lab of Ornithology! They based their ID on “the tiny feet, big head, thin, flat-looking bill with the tiny hook on the tip.” I’m not positive I agree, but then I’m not an expert at identifying birds with no color or feather patterns to go on!
Thanks to all three of you who donated; only two actually ventured a guess. One agreed with my suspicion that it might be a chipping sparrow; the other guessed sedge wren, which isn’t native to Georgia. Based on the resounding lack of response, even after the local paper ran a story on our albino phoebe and plugged the contest, I’d say contests were not something y’all’re interested in. Probably won’t try that again…
Thanks to all three of you who donated; only two actually ventured a guess. One agreed with my suspicion that it might be a chipping sparrow; the other guessed sedge wren, which isn’t native to Georgia. Based on the resounding lack of response, even after the local paper ran a story on our albino phoebe and plugged the contest, I’d say contests were not something y’all’re interested in. Probably won’t try that again…
The flight pen is once again occupied, by the sole blue jay from the 7-5 update, a brown thrasher and this young cowbird, who came in with three ruptured air sacs—you can see one in the lower portion of the photo. I have to admit that I’m not a huge fan of cowbirds, as they’re lazy, good-for-nothing wastrels. Cowbirds don’t build nests or raise their young; they lay their eggs in other birds’ nests, usually one egg per nest, and then those poor birds’ babies frequently die from starvation as the larger and more aggressive cowbird nestling gets all the food and maybe even shoves the parents’ real babies from the nest. That said, they are native North American birds and protected by the federal Migratory Bird Act, so I grit my teeth and rehab the little bums.
Several Carolina wrens came in recently, as well. One was DOA; his sibling was dying. There was simply no reason for these birds to die, except that the people who were supposed to bring them to me didn’t follow my instructions on how to feed the birds that morning until they got them to me. And since my car was in the shop, I did reluctantly have to allow them to bring me the birds, which they dumped on my front porch without knocking on the door, calling me, or blowing the horn to let me know they had arrived. It wouldn’t have mattered for either bird, as they’d both been too long without food, but this is a concrete example of why I prefer not to have people bring animals directly to my home. I don’t want to walk on my porch/in my yard to find boxes of dead or dying animals because people are too sorry or too stupid to see if I’m home before dumping their “finds.”
The third Carolina wren quite literally hatched in front of the finder’s eyes after the nest had been inadvertently removed from the motor where it had been built. Rather than calling DNR immediately to get my number, the finder walked around holding this newly-hatched baby for seven—yes, SEVEN—hours before seeking help. Baby birds can survive for a short while after hatching off the nutrients contained in the egg, but that’s just to tide them over in case Mama Bird’s eating or taking a potty break when they hatch; it’s not designed to see them through almost half a day—especially not a Carolina wren hatchling, which needs feeding every 10 minutes for the first several days.
Folks, baby songbirds are different from babies of other species. They HAVE to be fed regularly—and often—for 12-14 hours a day. The timing between feedings can range from a mere 10 minutes to half an hour, depending on species, and if more than a couple of feedings are missed, particularly in the higher-metabolism birds like wrens and hummers, their little systems can begin to shut down, meaning that once the rehabber receives them, s/he will probably not be able to save them. In effect, the food passes through their systems undigested, so they starve to death while the rehabber feeds them in a desperate attempt to save their little lives. THIS is why I stress the importance of swift action when someone calls about a baby bird. Their little lives are hanging in the balance!
These chimney swifts came from the Cobb County Emergency Animal Clinic. I received a midnight call from one of their workers last Friday. It seems that all the rehabbers up that way were full, not licensed for birds, or had always refused any wildlife the clinic attempted to send them, so this poor worker drove all the way from Cobb County Saturday morning to bring me these little fellows and a nest full of near-fledgling barn swallows. (Yeah, my car was still being repaired…IS still being repaired, in fact. The transmission went out while I was on my way to the vet with a carload of birds.)
The swallows had a pal waiting when they arrived, as I’d just received a singleton the day before and was beginning to worry about his lack of interest in anything. He perked right up at the sound and sight of fellow swallows, though, and now all four share the same nest quite happily. Swallows tend to fledge later in their development than most songbirds, as they absolutely must be able to fly well when they leave the nest. They eat on the wing, meaning that they use their wide little mouths to scoop insects right out of the air, so it’s imperative that they be fully developed before they leave the nest. These little beauties are starting to fly in place in the nest, which is a gorgeous sight to see, so it won’t be long before they’re ready for the flight pen.
In news of the weird (and quite funny), I recently received a call from someone who was convinced they had rescued a “baby” bald eagle from a lake. I questioned the caller about feather appearance, the presence of a hooked beak and talons, etc. The feathers were brownish, the beak was hooked and there were talons on the feet, confirmed the caller. I wasn’t sure exactly what the person had found, so I asked if a cell phone photo could be sent to my phone. Upon receipt of the photo, showing a small bird in the palm of someone’s hand, I burst out laughing and showed it to my niece, who snickered and exclaimed, “It’s a dove!”
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