It’s 4:45am and I have been bathing a baby crow for the last 2 hours.
Yes, you read that right. No, I’m not kidding.
See, it all started yesterday evening when I noticed the family of crows that lives on my block was going haywire. I went outside to see what was going on and saw that there was a fledgling with an injured wing on the ground. I live on one of the busiest streets in the city and so I decided I needed to move the baby. You don’t need to tell me that’s nuts. I know it already but I decided since he was strong enough to grasp my finger and balance himself, it was worth trying to help him. Here’s what happened.
(Yes, I just assumed the crow’s gender. You can’t get me fired for that so don’t bother trying!)
NOTE - For the sake of clarity I’m calling the baby bird Secouru, which Google Translate tells me means, “rescued” in French.
For the sake of ease, I’m shortening it to Ru.
Allseeing Ewe Adds "Great Rescuer Of Baby Crows" To Business Card
allseeingewe (56) in crow • last month
It’s 4:45am and I have been bathing a baby crow for the last 2 hours.
Yes, you read that right. No, I’m not kidding.
See, it all started yesterday evening when I noticed the family of crows that lives on my block was going haywire. I went outside to see what was going on and saw that there was a fledgling with an injured wing on the ground. I live on one of the busiest streets in the city and so I decided I needed to move the baby. You don’t need to tell me that’s nuts. I know it already but I decided since he was strong enough to grasp my finger and balance himself, it was worth trying to help him. Here’s what happened.
(Yes, I just assumed the crow’s gender. You can’t get me fired for that so don’t bother trying!)
NOTE - For the sake of clarity I’m calling the baby bird Secouru, which Google Translate tells me means, “rescued” in French.
For the sake of ease, I’m shortening it to Ru.
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Ru had some kind of bizarre rough, hard, pale yellow blob on his wing. I couldn't tell if it was something stuck TO him or growing OFF him but I decided to think about that problem later. More pressing than the wing thing was that there were about 15 horseflies buzzing all around him, the neighbor's dog was rapidly approaching, and Ru's parents were swooping around crazily, screaming their heads off. I’ve been feeding them a little bit, now and then for about a year, so we’re on pretty good terms. Despite our acquaintanceship, they were really unhappy about me scooping Ru up and taking him to my porch.
Ru was gaping and squawking, begging for food so I grabbed some plain tuna and fed him out on the porch where his parents could see and they started to quiet down and watch (somewhat dubiously) from the phone wires. It was just about to get dark so I brought Ru inside and wrapped him up to keep him warm while I called SPCA. Of course, it was too late to reach anyone! Why would I have a baby crow with a mysterious wing blob wrapped in a towel during business hours?? Ru started to get sleepy so I just set his little box on the heating pad on low and started searching online for answers to the blob. Naturally, that led nowhere.
A few hours ago, I got curious about the mass on his wing and got out the cell phone camera, zoomed all the way in with the video flash on and saw to my horror that it was a big scab and that underneath it was thousands of tiny maggots squirming around.
OH, GOD! OH, GOD!
I’ve never been so repulsed by anything before! I did come pretty close one time a couple months ago, but no one wants to hear a story about my former writing partner.
Anyway I wrapped Ru back up and started pacing around the room in a dazed panic. What the hell was I going to do? I was going to start emailing SPCA, was what! I felt I needed to let them know that the situation I left the voicemail about earlier was now a LOT more intense and that I could really use some attention! A little time went by and Ru woke up and started flopping around in his towel. I took a little peek at his wing and to my amazement, the blob had fallen off his wing.
OH SHIT! OH DEAR!
Well, that solved one problem and created a new one. Now there were thousands of tiny maggots flipping around on the towel and this poor little bird was in some obvious distress for the first time since I picked him up. I ran to the kitchen, grabbed a little plastic pan and filled it with soapy warm water. I put Ru in the pan and started knocking off what I could with a cotton swab but I couldn’t reach between the quills so I moved him to the bathtub and washed him with dishsoap. That got most of the bugs off him but there were still some actually in his flesh.
HOW THE FUCK DID I GET IN THIS SITUATION?
Poor little Ru was scared of the water and froze up into this odd position that I was fairly sure was Bird for, “Goodbye, cruel world!” so I got him out of the water and wrapped him back up. We went and sat on the couch- him on the heating pad and me on the computer, researching how to kill live maggots in a wound. Now I know how to kill live maggots in a wound. I have Ru to thank for that.
The internet told me to soak it in a mix of peroxide, vinegar and warm soapy water. So, I filled the little pan up with the solution and submerged him up to his neck for about half an hour. Then back to the bath to get the vinegar stink off him- all the while, apologizing for torturing him and doing what can only be described as praying out loud to anyone or anything that might help.
At this point, it’s 6:15am and I still have Ru wrapped up next to me. He’s sitting quietly and snoozing in and out so it seems that operation Whack-A-Maggot was at least mostly successful. I can’t bring myself to unwrap him again right now to see what’s going on in that towel. He’s been through enough for now and I don’t know if I can handle the truth about it at present. I’ll keep you posted (get it? Posted? har har) once I work up the nerve to find out more. Meanwhile, I’m going to be doing my best impression of sleep until Ru lets me know it’s breakfast time. I wish there was a way to physically turn off the dream function in my brain to avoid the inevitable nightmares.
I took some video earlier to document the ordeal that I’ll be splicing together at some point later on. It’s nothing I feel I can look at right now, as I’m sure you’ll understand. My hands smell like vinegar and my eyes are forever scarred by the sights I’ve seen tonight… er, this morning… oh, oh, god…