Today I was thinking about when I was younger, and some of the memories I have of my youth… (There are several, more may follow in the future.)
This one in particular I must of been about 12 years old, and my 2 best friends at the time where my neighbours, 2 brothers, who lived next door but one. One was 2 years my senior, the other about 4.
We would spend everyday together, especially myself and the younger of the 2 brothers. We were unseperable. 2 peas in a pod. We used to have many a sleep over.
So anyway this one particular year, we found a chick which had fallen out of its nest and was laid half dead on the concrete, slowly cooking away as the concrete was so hot from the sun.We took it upon our selfs to take the chick home. We had put it in an icecream tub with a “nest” we had made between us from various objects that we had found in the street.
We took it in turn feeding the bird bread soaked in milk, which we tentively gave it with a pair of tweezers the boys father had given us to use. We also gave it drinks from a pipet, which I think was from someones microscope set, I forget which one of us. We even dug for worms and cut them into small pieces to feed it.
When it was time for bed, we decided to keep the chick in my shed, due to it being warm in there, and the fact that none of our parents would allow us to bring the “flea bitten thing” into the house. Each one of us protested to our parents that they must let us bring it in our house as it needed night time feeding and looking after. We was really taking our roles of Vet/Bird mother serious, but alais neither of our parents would allow us.
So off we went to bed, all of use worrying about our poor little chick. The next day as soon as I woke up I went straight to the shed to go check on the chick, the boys must of been having the same thought cause as I was going out in my pyjamas the boys were on their way across in theirs. We held our breath as we opened the door, all of us hoping it had made it.
Over the next few days our lives revolved around this chick, and progress was being made as by the 5th day the bird was looking chirpyier (bad
yoke… sorry Joke).
We was all so proud of our selfs, and decided between us all that the best place for the chick now would be to go to vets, surely they would help it back into the wild…?
So off we pottered, Ice Cream tub in tow, showing our little “miracle” to any friends we had passed. We said our goodbyes, each of us holding and stroking the chick, and dropped chick at the vets (one of our parents had already called and arranged with the vets about it coming in).
The next day I begged and begged my mum to call to see how chick was, after over an hour of my constant nagging she gave in.
Never in a million years did I expect her to tell me that Chick had died during the night…. I was absolutely shocked and devestated at the news. I cried my little eyes out. I just couldn’t believe that we, 3 children, had managed to keep the bird alive for 5 days, 1 night at the vets and it had died. Apparently it never stood a chance.
This is when, I decided I didn’t want to be a vet anymore.