Andrea’s Story

Site created on March 2, 2016

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Journal entry by Andrea Caruso

I could hear him calling- he was so distraught. A  fledgling who had been knocked out of his nest. Ironically, I was looking for my cat when I stumbled across the baby bird.  "Here kitty, kitty, kitty!" And the fledgling frantically chirped in response. His dark gray pin feathers sticking up randomly over his head.  I didn't see a nest nearby, and hoped that one of his parents would come and continue to feed him. 

I've been here before.  Two years ago, I rescued another baby bird who had been knocked out of his nest following a spring thunderstorm. His parents never showed up to feed him. I kept him alive in a laundry basket in my bathroom for nearly 2 weeks  feeding him formula from a dropper, until his attempts to fly made it clear that I needed to sent him free. He refused to eat bird seed or even the worms I placed  in his cage.  I knew that when I released him that he would be unable to care for himself.  When I finally was forced to free him (due to his persistent attempts to fly) I followed him and fretted for hours. He cried and cried under the tree where I released him.  I could approach him and feed him formula from a dropper.  But he had no idea how to scavenge for himself.  Eventually, he stopped crying.  I pretended to myself that some generous grackle took him under a wing and showed him all the bird things that I couldn't teach him.  The next morning he was gone from where I had let him go.  I told myself he had found a new bird family.

So today I decided to let nature take its course.  Perhaps his parents would find him and feed him.  I ignored those frantic cries and went about my chores.  A few hours later, I could no longer hear his chirps.  I checked on him and he was dead.  I was expecting it, but I was still devastated.  I felt that I had let him die.

Sometimes we assume responsibility for events that are beyond our control. We try so hard to save a life-  and we may value that life more than our own... But sometimes we fail.  And it is so incredibly difficult because we felt that saving that beloved soul was in our power. And we failed them and they died because we didn't try hard enough, or didn't teach them the skills they needed to survive, or didn't put sprinkles on their birthday cupcakes... the list of failures goes on and on and on. 

I am not comparing the death of a baby bird to the guilt and heartbreak I still feel every day with the loss of my son. 
 
That pain cannot be matched.
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