One morning, I could
see through the window that my kitten, Sweety is gazing at something very excitedly.
As I know from experience, she is very keen on the uninvited guests to the
garden and I thought of better having a look myself.
It was a woodpecker!
Sure. Sweety does not
know him. But he reminded me of my childhood friend, a baby woodpecker
When I was with my
grandparents, a bright coloured woodpecker couple had made a nest in a cotton
tree in the garden. At first, the hatchlings just peeped, asking their parents
for food and adding to the general cacophony of the forest. Later, they climbed
on to the branch and began the flying lessons. Mum- woodpecker was guiding the
little ones. However the first attempt was a failure. They fell on the grass,
flapped their wings then rested, flapped some more and then rested. Without a lot
of strength and the knack for flying, they weren’t having much success. I
showed the scene to the grandpa “look at the little birdies.” I have always loved birds and animals, and
always tried to find affectionate names for them.
It happened that one of
the little birdies got up too high and as it was falling to the ground and, hit
the mango tree trunk. It hit hard and lay motionless on the ground. I found the
baby- bird laying, picked it up and carried it carefully home.
“Grandpa, a terrible
thing has happened! The birdie is dead! ” I announced
My grandpa listened to
the bird’s heart- It was beating
“He is not dead child,
just unconscious. We’ll take a good care of the poor thing”
Grandpa found a cardboard
box for the birdie and I picked up some grass to put on it to keep the birdie
warm. Then we covered it with a net.
“What about his meals
grandpa?” I questioned
“Let’s place some
grains, bread crumbs and water for the birdie “replied grandpa.
By evening the birdie
had woken up, drank some water and ate some bread crumbs. He did this for two
days. On the third day, the birdie started to peep and squawk as something had gone
wrong. We came to see what the matter
was. The poor baby bird has got tangled in the grass. He was pulling and
squawking, but could not get free. Instead he seemed to be more and more tangled with
the attempt.
“Help the poor thing
child” said grandpa, “but be careful. Pull off one blade of grass at a time. The
birdie must be afraid and will struggle. Don’t squeeze it. ”
I was very careful as
I did not want to make the situation worse. But suddenly I cried out as my hand
was hurt.
“It scratches!” I cried
A bird’s legs are very
thin and the claws are very sharp, like needles and cling very tight. Of
course. They have to be. That is a gift by Mother Nature. How else could a bird
climb up and down a tree head first?
Even though my hands were scratched, I managed
to untangle the little birdie from the grass.
Two days later, the birdie seemed to be fine
and much healthier. We bought the box out of the balcony and removed the net.
“Let him decide for himself” said grandpa. “If
he can fly- fine. If he falls, we’ll pick him up”
The next day the box was empty - the birdie had
flew away. But it had grown accustomed to people, and flew around the house all
day long, eating his faviourite bread crumbs.
Birds do not forget the kindness!
