the chronicles of croaky gamble

 Croaky has inspired some new writing. Capote has gone and I'm encouraging Croaky to fly off but unlike all the other birds I've rescued he didn't fly out of the open door but instead marched out. I followed him and eventually he popped up onto the fence where he sat for four hours. Now I understand the saying sitting on the fence. I hasten to add I didn't watch him for four hours. Much later and way past the four hours - I returned to check on him and he had gone. However all he'd done was get off the fence and march back inside the shade tunnel and I found him sitting on his favourite perch - an old wooden orange box.

 Here he is sitting on the fence. The door has been left open ever since but he just struts around his kingdom and collects feathers and twigs and caches his food under a piece of wood. I am putting the first chapter of the Chronicles of Croaky Gamble here.

 Back at the wild life hospital I found a baby hedgehog in one of the boxes! 

 Too adorable for words - sweet little ears and rather long legs. Here are some more. Photo below courtesy of the Wiltshire Wild Life Hospital.

 And talking of babies it's a bit chaotic here as two of the ducks have made nests and yesterday they both hatched ducklings. I've had to put a barrier up to stop the other ducks from killing them but because the eggs haven't all hatched yet I can't move them to a safer place. One squeezed out and was running all over the place it's mother hissing loudly at me. Photos in next month's blog if any of them survive.

 Here is Pixie being observed by the two cats. Nancypants in black and Pocket in stripes.

 Pixie's very interesting fact this month is Proportionally, the brains of some crows are bigger than yours.

 
The Chronicles of Croaky Gamble

It all began in the middle of a road.

I was just standing there minding my own business which was unusual in itself  because I have a tendency to be nosey when a small red car passed me. Then it went backwards! And a man got out and he woslike “You all right little thing?” And although I answered him in crow speak he didn’t understand that – see- I don’t think human animals are that intelligent. And I woslike “Yeah. Just minding my own business.” And he woslike “I think I better rescue you because if I don’t you might get run over.”

And he picked me up and put me in the back of his small red car and took me to his home.

It’s true – I hadn’t quite mastered the flying thing on accounts of getting out of the nest too soon. I saw Mum and Dad do it and when my older bro did it too I woslike “I’m not staying here with the babies” so I just spread my wings and hopped out of the nest. It was further down than I had anticipated and although I did a bit of flapping I went down rather than up. Still when I landed on the ground I ruffled my feathers and pretended it was what I had intended all along and decided to take a stroll. I hadn’t really used my legs before apart from kicking my younger siblings and I tottered around a bit until I found my feet. Then I tried hopping, jumping and running. I woslike Wow! Check me out!

 When I looked back up to see if my bros were watching I couldn’t see the nest at all. Or the trees. I had moved so fast I woslike nowhere near where I started.

There was another human animal in the back of the small red car – a  boy who smelt of sweets and soap and hope. I know about these smells cos my uncle gave us all a lesson on smells in the nest. He woslike “don’t eat sweets! Stick to worms and if you can get it - cheese.”

And my bros were like “Why not sweets? We like the sound of sweets. Worms is boring.”

And my uncle woslike ”they’ll give you tummy ache. I know – I once ate a hummingbug, part of an ars bar and something I believe was called a smelly baby.”

I sat on the boy’s lap and he stroked the back of my neck. It tickled but I thought it would be rude if I said - so I settled down after leaving him a little message from under my tail.

He woslike”What’s this bird Dad?” and his Dad woslike “That’s a crow, son.” And I left him another little message from under my tail to say like that’s right. I’m a crow.

They took me to their human nest which seemed to be very full of all sorts of things and I wondered how they could all fit in with so many bits of furniture and pictures and machines that did things like wash their clothes and pick up all the fluff from the bottom of their nest. I told them I was feeling a bit peckish and the Dad woslike “I think he’s hungry.” And I woslike “I ‘m rather fond of cheese” and he woslike “I’ve read somewhere they like cheese.”

And I thought perhaps the human animal isn’t so dumb after all and he gave me a piece of cheese and my uncle was right it’s much nicer than worms.

Then the boy gave me a name.

 “We must give him a name” he said and I said “I have a name. I’m

Crow 3” and he said “I think he might still be hungry.” and gave me another piece of cheese as well as a name.

“Croaky” he said.

A poem about rooks by Charles Sorley.

There, where the rusty iron lies,
The rooks are cawing all the day.
Perhaps no man, until he dies,
will understand them, what they say.
The evening makes the sky look clay.
The slow wind waits for night to rise.
The world is half content. but they

Still trouble all the trees with cries,
That know, and cannot put away,
the yearning to the soul that flies
From day to night, from night to day.