Then the unimaginable, completely avoidable decision to let Huck out to the back yard after being cooped up in the basement all morning. He usually just limps off the porch to pee and comes right back. This time he stayed on the porch and sniffed the air for a while. I saw him take a jaunty pace off the porch and into the garden. Was he stopping to do “his business”? NO!!! He had discovered the baby! I ran out there as fast as I could to distract him, but he had it in his mouth and when he dropped it, I know it was not going to survive. Another mother had lost her baby.
I felt that loss. I know that loss. I wish I had a bird’s brain so I wouldn’t have to know that pain of loss …That’s not true and a whole different story. The hard work to get them out of the nest, the hard work once they are out, still needing a parent’s care. Gone in a flash. I saw the baby limping around earlier and my heartstrings were pulled to Chris’s first wreck. I hoped the little guy was going to be okay. Then when its little life draining body dropped from Huck’s mouth, I cried… again. For momma blackbird…or for me?
Later Momma was under the tree with her other two babies continually feeding and guiding them. The other 2 were okay... for now. She was going on about her life, doing what she was supposed to do, caring for her surviving brood. I’m trying to do that too.