Meadowlark Fledgling

Two days ago I heard a young bird crying. I spotted the bird on the ground, and watched as it moved from the front yard to the back pasture and back screaming its head off. After a few hours I decided that mom was not around, and was made certain of this fact when the fledgling came running up to me with its mouth open (it even ran up the the dog asking for a meal). My heart strings were tugged hard enough, and soon the bird and I were off to the vet clinic where I used to work to get a baby bird powder. The dog came with us and was, as usual, very well behaved leaving the bird alone.

I got a small cage and the food and headed back home. The bird did well all day, although it does not like the powdered diet. I tucked him into my veggie garden for the night and went to bed. The next morning he came peeping up to me when I went outside. I fed and watered the little thing, and then went about my day staining the house. A few hours later I looked behind me to see the dog with the bird in its mouth.

Devastated, I rushed over to find a very sad looking bird and a very guilty dog. The bird was alive, and after a bit of debate and a lot of tears I decided that I had seen birds look worse and do fine so I decided to give the bird until the end of the day to perk up. Lots of TLC later and the baby bird was eating grasshoppers that had been caught, de-legged, and finger fed by me. The bird was allowed to sleep in the house in his cage, which I outfitted with a handmade nest, and woke up chipper and chirping to be fed at 7am.

I was reluctant to write about the baby, incase it did not survive being mauled by the dog, but I feel confident today that he will make it to adulthood just fine.

So a little introduction is in order.















This is the little guy (or girl). It is a meadowlark fledgling not a nestling. The difference between the two life stages can be determined by whether or not the bird can perch, which this kiddo can (although he prefers not to). He eats more than a teenage football team after practice- about three 1-1.5 inch grasshoppers every 20-30 min plus all the house-flies we can kill (Michael has been making a pile for me every few hours). Luckily there is no shortage of hoppers around here these days so I don't have to try very hard to catch him some food. He can fly down from a tree, but not up, and he likes to hop around in the grass. He is starting to groom and has his baby chirp plus a modified chirp that he does if he is really riled up.
























Anyways, always fun on the farm.