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Baby Buzz
It was the first hot week of summer, in the warmest
part of the day. I had just arrived home from work and
as I turned into the driveway, I noticed a small,
grey, fuzzy object bouncing on the hot cement. I
backed up, parked the car at curbside, and walked up
the drive to investigate.
The little creature was bobbing weakly and attempted
to hop away as I drew near.
When I got my first good look at the small being, I
realized it was a baby Mockingbird, far too young to
fly. I approached slowly and it jumped and fumbled its
way to my front porch, then collapsed, exhausted and
panting.
I thought surely that the baby was dying from
heatstroke. I picked him up and took him inside.
At the time, I raised birds and I had a couple of
cages I was not using. I prepared one and laid him
gently in an open nesting box. He weaved then hung his
head out of the box. His neck was fully stretched and
his mouth open. He looked dead.
With a bird-feeding syringe, I gave him water and said
a prayer. To my utter disbelief, he slowly rallied.
Two hours later he held his head up and made his first
noise, a feeble feed-me squawk that grew louder and
brash with each feeding. He was a fighter and his
valiant spirit reminded me of how precious life is, to
every creature. I named him Buzz.
Every July my family goes camping at the coast and
this would be the first time we would be camping with
a bird. I prepared a small, "travel" cage for Buzz and
he was set to go.
Buzz's feed me squawks drew the attention of fellow
campers and he soon became a favorite of many a
smiling visitor.
That first night I placed his cage on my cot. Not too
sure, of his new surroundings, he was a bit restless,
so I reached into his cage and cupped his small body.
He leaned into my palm and relaxed... And with that
one gesture of acceptance and trust he won a place in
my heart that would always be his. Later, when it grew
chilly, I slipped his cage inside my sleeping bag and
we both drifted off to sweet slumber.
The next day we drove to a spot down the coast to
spend a couple of hours on the beautiful beach there.
I put Buzz in the back of the truck, under the camper
shell. It was a lovely, cool day and I left the
windows of the camper shell open.
Two hours later we returned, climbed the hill and
entered the parking lot. As I neared the truck Buzz
began to call out and I had to laugh out loud. How he
knew we were nearby I do not know, but he did, and he
was giving his best "Hey! I'm over here. Did you
forget me?" squawk. I retrieved Buzz, put him up front
with us, and we returned to camp chuckling at the
little bird's big personality.
I raised him to young adulthood but before I could
release him "to the wild???, he passed away. He died
when I was at work.? It broke my heart when I went to
his cage and saw his body. He had been healthy and
happy that morning--I was devastated.
I have since nursed along another orphaned
Mockingbird. As soon as it was able to fly, I released
it in a beautiful park in the country. I did not have
a name for that baby. I briefly considered calling it
Buzz, too, but another little fuzz ball had claimed
that room in my heart where his courage will always be
honored.
Copyright 2005 by Kathy Anne Harris
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I live in central,
sunny California, where I share my life with my
husband and our furry family. I work full time for a
living, and I write in order to live fully.
My works have been featured in many online
publications and in traditional print. I am also a
weekly columnist for the publication "Frank Talk"
which is distributed in several counties in the
tri-state area of Michigan,
Ohio, and Missouri. I've written
four books and my fifth book, "For the Spirit-Soul," a
collection of my short stories and poems will be
released soon. |
