Tammy rescued a couple of baby/adolescent crows today. They'd fallen out of their nest and, while Mama and Daddy were watching over them, the babies are too big for them to carry back up. So they were on the ground, and the lovely folks on 2nd Avenue might have kicked them to death, either by accident or deliberately, so Tammy gently scooped them up and took them home.
They've now bonded over squashed worms and are settling in nicely. They're not afraid of people, and one of them was rubbing his beak against Tammy's finger while she took them home.
They're happy in their new home, an old rabbit hutch.
I understand. I used to do the very same thing. I was told by my mother in no uncertain terms that I could bring home stray pets, but I had to find homes for them.
And I would've, honest, I would have! But she bonded with them and then she wouldn't let them leave!
I brought home an Irish setter that someone had deliberately hit with their car. You could see the skid marks where they crossed the road. He had to have his front leg removed, but after that he was healthy as anything. And while he limped when walking, he could outrun my car if he tried. He was gorgeous.
I rescued a baby bunny once, and nursed it back to health. It ended up with a lightning-shaped scar on its right rear leg. Years later I found a huge hare frozen to death in a snow bank right outside our house. It had the same scar.
I brought home a black and white cat, and she stayed and had several litters of black and white kittens, many of whom did go to other homes. The original mama cat, though, went through most of her nine lives by sleeping on my engine block.
Tammy was raised on a farm, and so was I. We're used to the cycles of life, and death is certainly a part of it, but there's just some need to save baby critters or helpless ones when we can. We're just not designer pets sorts of folks.
Lillian made a point of getting our cats from an adoption agency that specializes in abandoned and rescued cats. That's part of why Geordie's such a weirdo; he was feral before he was rescued and now he's just paranoid.
I'll bet some of you have done the same things. You have, haven't you? Yeah, I thought so.
Anyway, good job, Tammy! Enjoy your new babies!
Raz was a Rottie rescue and look at him now. Minus his bear-like stance and size and the fact he used to crave futon mattresses I think he's a picture of mental heath. Well for living at my house, and he used to live at frat house before he was dumped. He's my baby.
Then there are all the cats, the ferrets, Squish the dog, the gray parrot that cussed and bit when you left him for more than 5 hours, and the pet rats people didn't want. I even had an iguana for awhile that someone dumped on me. If they didn't live out thier lives with me they found very loving homes. And people still always ask me if I know who needs or wants a particular animal or if I knew anyone who had X animal they were looking for a home for because they wanted one.
Posted by: Dev | June 15, 2007 at 07:46 AM
Kit-Kat was a feral cat that I rescued. If we couldn't catch him, the people whose place he was living on planned to shoot him. They had cats, and didn't want ferals mixed in with them. I'm glad we caught him. He lived to a healthy 14 years old. Still miss him! My parents rescued a police-trained German Shepard, and he too lived to a ripe old age.
Posted by: Eunice | June 15, 2007 at 11:12 AM