A Brief Career in Avian Emergency Services

The short and slightly tragic life of my wildlife expertise

canary by Jules Smith

I seem to give off a Dr Dolittle energy. Every year, when animals start to poke their heads up after winter, they seem to wander in my direction with issues.

I had a baby hedgehog in the middle of the road that needed saving, a poor sparrow being pushed around by magpies, fallen baby birds squawking for rescue, and once I had a baby crow in my garden and had to wear a hat and glasses every time I went out to see to it in case the murder of crows above pecked my eyes out. It’s a relentless ordeal.

I took a walk on the wild side

The other day I went for a dog walk in the woods and found a bright yellow canary. There it was, foraging for food on the floor and it flew up into the tree when my wolfits took an interest.

Great. Somebody’s neon pet budgie has escaped and now I have to deal with it. There it sat in the tree like a glowing banana. Far too naive and domesticated for the wilds of the forest.

I tried calling it and speaking in my kindest birdy voice but to no avail.

I went on my walk and came back an hour later. After dropping the dogs in the truck I went back to where I last saw it and there it was on the floor again. Not a clue on situational awareness. I crept gently towards it making chirping noises and up it flew into the tree again.

*Sigh*

I tried again to coax it down. Even the tits were helping me as around 15 of them were screeching violently at the yellow bird. Perhaps it was in their tree, I don’t know, or they didn’t like the look of its fancy feathers.

My Dr Dolittle lingo didn’t seem to be taking effect: Get down here you little yellow skank. Fine. stay there. See how you like it when Mr sparrowhawk picks you up in your canary yellow coat. Biggest fashion faux pas in here since Friar Tuck.

I came to the conclusion that without a large net I wasn’t going to get hold of this creature. Perhaps freedom was a benefit it could enjoy before getting taken out by a friendly predator. The dogs were crying and I had to go. Maybe someone else would have better luck. Even the owners, wherever they were.

For Flocks Sake

Of course, it wasn’t that simple was it? My brain couldn’t just leave it at that. C’est la vie, oh no.

What if a buzzard gets it? I mean, it’s a sitting duck.

It’s going to make magpies so jealous.

Robins will hate it.

What if is it’s too cold? It’s used to central heating and probably a blanket.

At half 6 the next morning I got up and went back to the woods. I took some food. I say food, it’s the stuff I make my own muesli from, you know, like raisins, oats and pine nuts. I mean if you’re hungry you’re hungry, right? I didn’t think it’d fancy bacon. I didn’t even have a cup of tea. Off I went, bleary eyed and nauseous to go and find somebody else’s pet bird because my sick and twisted mind convinced me that some old lady or little child was devastated at having left the window open.

I got there at 7AM to find the place was shut. A barrier right across the car park entrance. Bloody typical. Who shuts a forest off? Desperately annoyed, I went across the road to the open and rustic woodland for a walk. The birds were in full morning chorus and I cleverly had an idea.

Making an Entrance by Jules Smith

King of the call

I took out my bird app. Perhaps the canary had flown this way, and if it had then the app would pick it up! They are known for their singing, are they not? I walked all around the woods with the phone listening to all the chirps and cheeps and warbles and coos. So many birds turned up on the screen that I had to scroll down for ages to see! As well as the usual suspects I got a chiffchaff, a ringed necked pheasant, and two different woodpeckers! That gave me another idea for a current art project challenge called “Making an Entrance” which I thought fit the woodpecker perfectly. So that’s what I painted above. Talk about killing two birds with one stone, eh? Anyway, I digress.

At the end of my walk I went back to the original wood and it was still closed off so I went home for a much needed cuppa and breakfast.

And then…

I went back at lunchtime. Just to make sure.

The canary was nowhere to be seen. I walked up and down the path where I first saw it but nada. Why I expected it to be in the same place I don’t know, because that’s rather ridiculous. I can only hope it has made a friend and flown off into the sky, playing on the currents of the wind. Or it’s safely back with its owner who needs to buy me a coffee for all my bloody trouble.

Talking of which…