Neighborhood Patrol is a lot more than simply monitoring for mischievous chipmunks and trespassing deer. It also involves helping my neighbors. Case in point recently while out on a walk I found a Baby Robin sitting in the middle of the street. The little bird was a mix of fluffy down and adult feathers, and in a dangerous situation. I knew instantly that I needed to help the Robin cross the road before it got hit by a car, or became someone’s dinner!
As Dad and I slowly approached the little bird, with the adorable tufts of baby down as eyebrows, he squared off with me and defiantly tweeted. That Robin has sass! Sass is good though. I could work with sass. A scared bird would be more difficult. Speaking of scared, Momma Robin was definitely upset by the situation and was on a nearby branch watching this whole scenario, but helpless to intervene on her baby’s behalf. No worries, Ma’am. It’s my job to help. Oh boy was I thankful Asa stayed home with Mom. He no doubt would have tried to lighten the mood with ridiculous “why did the Robin cross the road” jokes. Asa’s not cool and collected in an emergency like me.
Dad and I took a slow step towards him, knowing that picking him up was not an option. I’m not sure if this is true or just an old wives’ tale, but they say you should never touch a baby bird because it could scare away the mother. The Baby Robin tweeted at us again, but then turned and took one hop towards the side of the road. This was good. We took another step, and the bird took another hop. The third time the bird continued right on hopping until he reached the side of the road, and more importantly safety!
Momma Robin then took over the situation. She swooped down very close to us. Although I Tweet daily, I’m not fluent in bird. But I could tell by her tone and actions that she was not the least bit grateful that I saved her precious baby’s life! She may have even been holding me accountable for the little guy falling out of the nest in the first place! Which, upon further consideration, she may have a point if she built her nest with Asa’s fur. I always suspected his fur is inferior to mine! Regardless, I did what I could to help, and continued on my patrol shift with Dad in tow. As we walked away, I glanced back and saw the Momma Robin guiding the baby bird towards the underbrush so it wouldn’t be exposed to predators.
After we made the usual rounds, on the way home we paused to look for the baby on the side of the road, but he was nowhere to be seen. What we did see though was Momma Robin with a clump of dead grass clippings in her beak soaking them in the nearby brook. Was she wetting them to build a hunter’s blind for her baby to keep him undetectable from prey until he could fly to safety? Or perhaps this was a way to get water to her little one, who no doubt must have been thirsty after his big adventure. Either way, I headed home knowing I had done a good deed helping the Baby Robin cross the road.
