Baby Gilbert

June 5, 2014

WARNING: If your of a delicate disposition, get grossed out easily or have a very sensitive gag reflex, then this is not the blog post for you. You should virtually run away now and use your surfing time to check out cute puppies or sneezing baby pandas.

The other morning Keane and I were rushing out of the house to go get him a smashing new hair cut. As usual he was lagging behind, pointing out various things like dada’s shoes sitting by the door, random stones in the driveway or various bugs and butterflies. But this particular morning he kept repeating “baby duck momma“. ¬†Being more focused on trying to encourage him towards the car so we wouldn’t be late for his appointment, I paid no real attention to what he was saying. But he wouldn’t let it go. He kept saying over and over again, “baby duck momma“. Finally I went over to see what he was talking about and there at the bottom of the steps was a baby bird. Fintan, our cat had obviously been on the prowl, found himself a birds nest and had heartlessly taken one of the babies from the nest and left it for us as a gift. Not exactly a positive element to our kitty cats personality, but such is nature. Assuming he was dead, I was getting ready to do what I usually do with Fintan’s “gifts”, trash it. But thats when I noticed this little fella was still breathing. Now everything changed and I couldn’t in good conscious discard of the tiny guy.

We called for back-up in the shape of The Husband and believing we knew the nest he had been taken from, we set to work trying to return him to his momma. Keane was loving the drama and excitement and was disappointed when Dada was the one who got to climb the ladder in an attempt to return the baby bird to what we hoped was his home. But it wasn’t. It was no birdies home. It was an abandoned nest. Now what? We had no way of figuring out where this guy came from, so we did what we always do when we find lost and homeless creatures, we took him in.

We set him up with a warm and cozy bed in a carrier bag. That way he could be zipped in and remain safe from the claws of Fintan again, and from there I had zero clue of what to do for this guy. No question he was just recently hatched, we’re talking a day or 2 old at the most. His skin was as thin as tissue paper and completely transparent. You could literally identify every organ in his tiny body. I hit up the Google machine for some guidance and from there I prepared a cocktail of mushed up egg yolk and milk and started to syringe it into his begging beak one tiny drop at a time. You could actually see the food travel down his esophagus all the way to this stomach, that’s how transparent he was. Keane was loving it, talking about how “likkle” he was and how sad he must be without his momma. We decided to call him Gilbert and for the next 48 hours, Gilbert was a the most loved and popular member of the family. We did our best for the little guy, but the claw wounds he received from Fintan, eventually lead to his passing. It was the saddest thing ever, watching his slow deterioration, knowing there was nothing you could do but make him comfortable.

Not really understanding all that was happening, Keane was happy just looking and talking to little Gilbert.

Little Gilbert, no more than a couple of days hatched.

Remember, if your grossed out, I did warn you. But how cool is this? Look how small he is, battery sized and just like I said, completely transparent.

His cozy home for the final 48 hours of his life. RIP tiny Gilbert.

2 Responses to “Baby Gilbert”

  1. Grandma Doyle says:

    How sad for him! But if he was going to be left anywhere, your house is the best. If I ever got stranded, would you take me in??

  2. Stephen says:

    Please say yes!

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