Well, predictably, he didn't last more than a couple hours after this picture was taken. Lillian had been prepared from the start, me explaining to her on the way home that there was very little chance that the bird (she named him Mud Pie) would make it, he Dad explaining to her that wild birds just hardly ever survive in human care, and of course Sand telling her not to expect too much, that the little guy in all probability wouldn't make it.
But when the end came, Lillian cried.
The internet articles I read all pretty much said the same thing about what to do when you find a wild baby bird -- walk away.
What might you do if what you came across was not a baby bird but a tribe of people who had had little or no contact with rest of world? There are about a hundred "uncontacted tribes" in the world -- peoples who live in remote areas away from the rest of us. They are primitive...a term I realize can make me sound snobbish, but I don't know another way of putting. They live lives completely devoid of any of the advances of the modern world.
The Zo-e tribe in Brazil used to one of these uncontacted peoples. Then Christian missionaries found them in 1982 and proceeded to unintentionally wipe out a quarter of their population with imported disease.
So what would you do? Would you try to "help" them? Or would you let them continue undisturbed because that's better for them. And if it's better for them, what does that say about how you live?
I am not preaching here, because I don't know what I would do. I know I would not want to be the cause of deadly epidemics, but is what we have in the modern world not worth sharing? Is the "primitive" life more in line with what God intended for us?
The little bird would probably have died anyway, but I hoped that at least I could provide it with a peaceful place to die, safe from being trampled or run over, safe from having some sadistic kids get hold of it and make its last hours miserable.
I seriously doubt I would have any right to impose anything on people such as the Zo-e, but what responsibility might I have toward them?
There are more birds here than SoCal because the dreaded black birds haven't run out all the locals. Also it's part of the migratory pathway and many birds come to winter here. This morning my heart jumped into my throat as a large white heron flew up from a puddle next to the freeway and flew right towards my car. I was worried I was going to take out the bird when it figured out that large silver thing in its path wasn't good. It swooped just in time to avoid becoming scattered remains but still it took a while for me to stop going, "Insert La Swear words".
ReplyDeleteI know what you mean about how in our arrogance we think we can 'rescue' tribal folks who don't even know they need help and in the process destroy that which we tried to rescue. How would we like it if the 'aliens' invaded and 'helped' out humanity as we know it? There's your next story B!
I saw this post through one of my facebook friends and stopped to visit. This is the very reason I have a hard time watching National Geographic nature shows - letting nature take it's course is pretty hard to stomach at times. Nice blog. I look forward to stopping by again.
ReplyDeleteWhat Maleah said. I'm horribly tender-hearted sometimes. Baby birds are the worst.
ReplyDeleteThat's a sweet picture of the missus.