Wildlife warriors

We had an eventful afternoon post-school on Friday.  We hadn't been home long when a thud was heard and Milly announced that a bird had flown into our front windows.

Henry went outside and found it on our front path.  It was still alive and lying on it's back.  We flipped it over but it couldn't stand on it's legs nor open it's wings.  It was a bit tragic.  The poor bird was pulling itself along the ground with it's beak.

We called WIRES (Wildlife Information, Rescue and Education Service) who suggested we call the Native Animal Trust Fund who had a local branch, who then in turn told us to take it to a vet. They also advised us to put a towel over it to pick it up and put it in a box.  

So off we went in search of a vet.  The boys took turns in nursing the bird on their laps while we drove and carrying the box to the vet.  On our way to the vet we even came up with some names for the bird.  I named it Charlie, Buster called it Max, and Henry named it Blobson.  Milly was not impressed that she was missing out on having a hot chocolate because of the bird.  This lesson in compassion was lost on her.

Once at the vet's they took our address details so when the bird recovers it can be released back to it's own neighbourhood.  They said a wildlife carer would collect it and look after it.

The sad news is the bird passed away that night before the wildlife carer arrived.

RIP Charlie Max Blobson.

PS.  Milly did get her hot chocolate when we got home.