Day 8.

I don’t know how people handle being parents of tiny, helpless humans. I officially applaud you.

I’m sick, have done 10 hours of overtime this week (with another several hours coming), and am insanely fatigued, but the little blue babies still come first. I’m proud of myself, quite frankly. Through the sniffling, sneezing, naps, and long days at work, I’ve still managed to keep them alive. (I’d like a parade now. With some chicken soup.)

I apologize for having the audacity to post about them without accompanying photos but I just didn’t have the energy. They’re amazingly larger than just a couple of days ago. Their bodies are really filling out and expanding to catch up to the size of their feet and they’re generally becoming much more independent. They’re taking far less food from me – it helps that they’re fat, according to how thin the keel is beneath the breast tissue – and instead of begging for it open-mouthed, they’re starting to prefer picking it off the forceps.

Bubba is still not really good at determining food from poop. He carried poop around in his mouth for a couple of minutes this morning, evidently convinced that it would become palatable with time, but eventually spit it out when I put some food on the ground in front of him. I was really hoping he’d learn the whole poop lesson a little quicker, but he’s at least turning into an agile flier. Gump is making up for all the times Bubba stood bullying upon his back by chasing him around and pulling at his feathers. They are tolerating me less and less and do not want to be handled, which is a fantastic sign for their future release. They squawk, they explore, they shit, they eat things they shouldn’t eat, and at the end of it all, they hunker down next to one another and tuck their beaks beneath their wings for a nap.

Learning to be a bird is exhausting work.


Posted on June 5, 2011, in Fauna, Naturalist Notebook and tagged , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Comments Off on Day 8..

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