She left me in charge of the babysitting task of her two baby barn swallows while she went to camp. What a task it is to feed baby birds and after the first week all was well, but then the littlest one continued to decline until he died one morning. When I examined his leg, it had a sharp bend in it that had mended, which must have happened when he fell about 20 feet from his nest in the eves of the barn. Poor thing. But his brother continued to thrive and would cheep at me about every hour or so for his feeding of baby bird formula mixed with raw meat.
The second week he really was a flier and would fly around the house a bit and come back for feedings. She had her birthday at camp so when she got home on Saturday we had a small celebration which included: chocolate.
He wanted the celebration to end so he could be free.
“Thank you for saving my life.”
“I’m not making any promises that I will remember you or come visit or anything.”
She held him one last time and then let him go.
He flew and flew in circles from the house, soaring all the way to the river and back and forth about three times, then we never saw him again.
I miss my little friend and was grateful for his company. As with any babysitting job, however, it is enjoyable while it lasts and is enjoyable at it’s conclusion.
In case any of you are wondering, little Marcelo, named after the son of our dear friends, Jackie and Blanca, is doing well with Mama Lucy. This picture is his first night under the heat lamp and today I will get some better pictures of the little fatty.