Winter is a dog of medium build about four or five years old, and as good a friend as you could ask for.
She reminds me of NaNa in Peter Pan in that she seems to believe all little ones are her responsibility – always keeping an eye on them, staying close, and an absolute terror if she perceives what might be a threat to them.
Dutifully each night she follows them to bed and lays nearby, she won’t leave their side unless she needs to go outside for a few minutes or maybe get a drink – if something seems amiss she’ll come to get you.
Her maternal instinct is such that it extends even to birds – it’s late in the year for hatchlings yet in a nearby tree a lone chick makes his presence known.
The last couple of days entering the fledgling stage he has fallen out of the nest into the bed of the truck, this requires that I get a ladder to return him.
His parents don’t like the idea of anyone being near the nest and were bold enough to swoop and dive at me.
The next day he was in the bed again and so I got the ladder and returned him. Less fuss this time as though maybe his parents understood on some level I didn’t pose a threat.
After the third and fourth time I began to think that inspite of placing a blanket in the truck bed to cushion the fall the chances of survival were dwindling.
Not a lot of options, but if push came to shove he could be hand raised, a last option as he wasn’t meant to be a tame bird, he was meant to be free just as the nations as a people were meant to be.
I mentioned Winter in the beginning as she has taken to checking out the truck, and I can only assume it’s to see if she can hear the missing Wright brother chirping in the bed after having fallen again.
The nest as far as nests go seems to be ill constructed, but I’m not an authority on nests and figure the parents knew what they were doing.
Another week or so and what begins as a fall will turn into flight, it’s a waiting game now as the ladder remains leaning against the tree.