Sunday, May 31, 2009

Time to Fly

When I opened the back deck door this morning to let Tallulah and Isabelle out for their morning potties, my attention was immediately drawn to the verbena pot, now home to two baby robins and their mommy. The mommy robin was perched on the edge of the ornamental pot when I opened the door. I saw her fly away to a nearby tree where she quickly landed and proceeded to bird bitch at us loudly from a safe distance. The reason for her distress you see above (click for a giant version): one of her babies is out of the nest and I can only assume about to take flight.

We are a house full of dogs here: a Golden Retriever, West Highland Terrier and, next door, Dudley the Dachshund. All the dogs regularly traverse the giant back deck where this baby bird is now precariously perched. I shudder to think of what this baby's fate might be if either of the smaller dogs gets wind of the situation. I don't think Isabelle would eat the baby, she is a gentle giant, but either Tallulah or Dudley would likely not be so kind (though it wouldn't be personal--just business).

When I opened the door this morning Tallulah shot out, making a beeline for the pot in question. She began sniffing the deck just below where the baby bird is sitting, comically almost, a mere foot or so above her head. I had a heart stopping moment when I just knew Tallulah would look up, see the baby, stand up on her hind legs (as she does when curious), and snatch the bird from the rim with her teeth. Thankfully, I managed to distract her to the other end of the deck, get her to potty and back in the house. She kept trying to veer back off toward the bird, though. She senses something over there.

Once in the house, Tallulah wedged her head between the long blind and the door glass and spent some time staring outside in the general direction of the bird. Her Westie senses are no doubt tingling.

I'm fighting the impulse to look out the door myself every five minutes. I can't fix the situation, I can only hope for the best. It's is a feeling with which I'm all too familiar parenting, as I do, a grown son.


Patience-please said...

Lovely post!
Thank goodness sons are much higher up the Darwinian scale.

Anonymous said...

The last paragraph was sheer perfection.