the story of a rescue

A few years ago, Evan and I rescued this tiny baby bird from an almost certain death. It was a baby Pitirre, or Gray Kingbird – very common to Puerto Rico. We noticed him when walking down to the beach with Sophie and our friends from Florida. I spotted him on the sidewalk, where he apparently had jumped from his nest in the adjacent telephone pole. Since the nest was well out of reach, we gently placed him in the grass so he was at least out of the way of passing dogs, cats, cars and bikes. We also noticed that the two parent birds were perched on the wires above, seemingly trying to figure out what to do next. Evan told me that the whole “don’t touch the bird or the mom will not return” was a myth, so we felt confident we did the right thing.

Several hours later, after returning from San Juan airport and a tasty meal at MenTa Cuisine in Arecibo, we were finally home and able to relax. I asked Evan if he wanted to run down the hill and see if the baby bird was still around, so he obliged. And of course, he was there nestled in the grass, sleeping – exhausted, dehydrated, scared and stressed out. That was it — we decided we would take our chances at helping him survive as it appeared those chances were slowly diminishing the longer he remained out of the nest.

We found a great source online about how to care for baby birds. We took an old shoe box and added some paper towels and a torn piece of old tee-shirt to make a nest. The bird wasn’t interested in eating, so we had to use a syringe to force a bit of food in him since it was clear he had not eaten in over 8 hours (the guide says birds of about 20 days old need food every 2-3 hours). Once fed, he slept soundly in his makeshift nest in our office and we went to sleep wondering how this would turn out in the morning….

Low and behold, we were woken to the sweet sounds of a hungry baby bird! He seemed full of life and was eager to take the moistened, ground dog chow and ground boiled egg (60% / 20% respectively). I know that combination sounds strange and inhumane, but the bird needed a mix of proteins and vitamins, this was what was suggested. I upgraded his shoe box to a larger, high walled cardboard box. I then added twigs for perching, which I poked through the box to keep them stable. I added a new “nest” of clean cotton tee-shirt and completed the assembly with two flat lids of water.

I fed him about every 1.5 hours, because he seemed so eager to eat and I tried to help him make up for lost energy and the stressful episode of the day before. He was singing all day – I had his box outside and out of reach of roaming cats (and Sophie) were he could get a little vitamin D.

So can I first just say that it was hard to let this little bird go? I definitely got attached to him, and I think it was mostly because he treated both Evan and I as parental figures. Each time we passed by his box and looked in, there would be a mouth open and exciting chirping for food. One day, we both had to go to the island for work, so we brought him along since he needed to be fed every few hours.

It was amazing to watch his transformation from a frightened, weak little bird into this beautiful creature that you see in the last photo. This was taken on the day that we released him. We noticed that he would try to fly from his box, and would sometimes find him perched on the top ledge. This was wonderful, because we were interpreting it as a sign that he was ready to try to leave the nest.

So we brought him outside, put his box on the ground and let him decide when he was ready. It took a few minutes, but he eventually hopped to the ledge and perched. Of course, it was actually Sophie who prompted him to fly when she approached as a interested dog. Pitirre (we called him that or just simply “bird”) flew to a tree and remained there for an hour at least.

We grew to know his song and could identify him wherever he moved in the trees around our house. We followed the sound for a few hours while we worked at home, telling each other “oh I hear him back there behind the house” or “he’s moved over to that mango tree next door” and eventually to “oh look, he’s right back here by the house, I can see him!”. That was an exciting afternoon to find him right back near where we released him. He would cock his head to the side and peer down at us – in what we hoped was recognition, but that might be assuming a lot.

However, the most interesting and amazing part of this story is what happened a few days later. Evan went for a morning run at the beach and heard Pitirre on his way. He stopped and looked up and found him amongst some other smaller, juveniles just like him. They were perched on electrical wires overhead, and Pitirre was distanced from the other two. He noticed two parent birds bringing food to the other babies, but that Pitirre was left out, just watching and hoping to be included. Evan continued on his run and came back to the house to get me. So we walked back down and by that time, Pitirre had joined the others and we saw the two parent birds supply him with food as well. It brought such a smile to our faces that he was welcomed into another brood. How amazing is it that this little bird could be nurtured back to health by two humans, and then return to the wild and pick up right where he left off?

We don’t hear him in our trees anymore. I’ve lost of the recognition of his song, it has blended together with the others. But I suppose that’s the way it should be and I’m thankful that he’s safe and strong and ready to take on the world here in Rincon.