Today I watched a Phoebe chick die.
Yesterday afternoon, while I was busy enjoying my annual visit to the San Diego County Fair with Rodrigo and Sylvia, I got a call from my mom saying that she found two Phoebe chicks on the ground after they had fallen about eight from their nest under a roof eave. She wanted to help them but wasn’t sure what to do. I told her I didn’t know since I couldn’t see how small or how feathered they were. I couldn’t tell if they fell out, were pushed out or just tried to fly out.
She ended up placing them into a small, plastic basket which she lined with a soft, bunched up hand towel and then brought them inside the house to keep them warm overnight. I saw them when I got there later at night and they seemed to be resting comfortably and peacefully.
The next morning my mom told me that one of the chicks had passed away overnight. She carefully wrapped it in a paper towel and left it in the basket. After taking a couple of photos of the still live one, I decided to take the basket outside and place it on a small work bench directly beneath their original nest in hopes that the parents would still be able to find and feed the remaining one. They kept flying around, chirping, but never landed on the basket, almost as if they couldn’t tell that their chick was there.
This was at 8:00 and we had gotten ready to take it to the local Project Wildlife office which unfortunately didn’t open until 9:00. While I was watching the baby through the living room window I saw it suddenly stretch out its tiny wings, then stretch out its body including pointing its head straight up, and then gently fall backwards onto the towel. This all happened within about two seconds, and then it was still.
I ran outside to check on it and confirmed that it was no longer alive. This day was not starting out well at all. Matter of fact it sucked. Both chicks had died under our care. But that’s when I noticed that a third chick was still in the nest, quietly seated on the edge. At least the parents had one more baby to take care of. Hopefully.
I carefully buried the two chicks next to each other in one grave and then placed two stones as markers.
I hate it when animals die, but especially younglings. I hate it most when I see it happen. That’s something that stays with you.
