Something a house-sitter must absolutely do is continue the routines of the house-sittee.
Of course, this tends to mean sticking with the set times for, say, dog walks, feeds, wees, treats, bed and so on.
However, when I house-sat in Chichester - nice place, Chichester - house-sittee Laurel, said,
‘If you see a blue tit with a white patch on its head looking in through the kitchen window, please remind her of her survival instinct, if at all possible, by making pecking movements at her.'
Oh.
Laurel explained, ‘My husband Yan and I were coming back from Waitrose, and as we turned into the drive, there was Susan my neighbour right down on the gravel making 'stop' gestures at us. A young blue tit had been attacked by a cat - tail feathers all gone; and I looked everywhere, but there was no sign of its parents.
'I told Susan, of course she couldn't take it because she has a cat. I hoped she didn't think I was accusing her Bassinger. I took off my hat, and Yan and I brought Tweetie Pie inside in it.
‘I knew if Tweetie Pie survived overnight there might be hope for her. I don’t know why, and who could tell, but I somehow just knew Tweetie Pie was a she. First thing I looked up was what to feed her. Caterpillars. And could I find a caterpillar in the garden? No. The suggested alternative was ground worms, even though there is a risk of parasites. But I weighed that risk against certain death for Tweetie Pie and went down to the compost heap and - eugh – sourced worms to cut up for her.
'And - nature is amazing - as soon as Tweetie Pie ingested some worm a tiny pearl-blob of poop came out of her other end. In the nest, of course, the mother would then have disposed of it. In our house, it was my job.
‘I would still check daily in the garden for caterpillars; and also asked Susan, Gabby and Tom. Still nothing.
‘Oh, it was lovely relief when Tweetie Pie started to try and fledge. She would watch the birds in the garden and imitate them. She would take off out of her box – we’d criss-crossed it with sticks for her to perch in – fly around the kitchen for a bit and then settle on my neck or head and rest there.
‘I had to put her to bed - on that branch you can see still on the top of the jams cupboard. I can’t bear to part with it. Yan’s sister came to stay and did her usual tidy up routine when I wasn’t here, and threw away some of Tweetie Pie’s nesting box material, that I had been keeping. You don’t know what to say in these situations, do you? Anyway, I had to put Tweetie Pie to bed formally or she wouldn't leave my neck. She would just nestle. Oh, so soft. Coaxing her off was a nightly ritual for us both. Once she went all the way down to the middle of my back where I couldn't get to her.
‘Twice I had to ask Gabby to look after her, which Gabby loved. And Tweetie Pie hopped straight off my finger onto Gabby's. And, thankfully, straight back onto mine when Yan and I got back from Budapest.
‘But by then I was thinking it really must be time for Tweetie Pie to fledge. She had her tail feathers back by now, and everything. The bird people over the phone said I must give her insects on leaves so she would learn to peck. I found some on the Mock Orange and demonstrated to her.' Laurel was demonstrating highly staccato pecking to me. 'And at first Tweetie Pie looked at me like I was mad, but then seemed to catch on. She pecked a woodlouse - and was hooked.
‘And was becoming more and more able in flight. So it really was time for her to fledge.
‘Then we had Caroline's sixtieth in Rye and Gabby took her again. And although I knew Tweetie Pie must fledge, I said to Gabby if it wasn't looking like it would be a wrong thing to do, please delay her. The bird people had said I must just be patient anyway.
‘Back from Gabby's Tweetie Pie spent her time mainly on the window frame looking out. And then, I felt it, came the day. I opened the window. Gabby and Mary were in the garden. I went behind Tweetie Pie, standing on the spice cupboard, to encourage her. She got as far as the pouch in the left hand blind and sat there, looking at me as though she was saying, 'Well, is this what you wanted me to do?' And I thought I should go out into the garden, maybe, myself. And as soon as I jumped down off the spice cupboard, she flew out into the garden and away.
‘And here's this - it may be wishful thinking, but I'm sure a little while after this happened I saw Tweetie Pie sitting on the Mock Orange. Just once ever. Gabby says she quite often sees her in their garden. But Gabby has bird feeders. And what I truly believe was Tweetie Pie was staring straight at me, and very deliberately and demonstratively pecking, as I'd taught her. So, I made sure I mirrored her movements back at her.
'I worry she may need those reminders. So, if did happen to see her - look for the speck of white - please can you do the pecking movement? She might be confused as to who you are, but the reminder itself might well prove timely.'
See, I wouldn't know most garden birds from Adam. So, to be safe, when I noticed anything sitting on the Mock Orange that wasn't absolutely a sparrow, blackbird or robin, I stood in the kitchen window bobbing at it like a vulture with Parkinson's.
#birds #gardenbirds #RSPB #savingbirds
Comments
Post a Comment