Two days ago I sent a text to Maalie, who was gallivanting about up a mountain in foreign parts, asking him what to do about a baby crow I had found. I asked him whether I should perhaps give it some cat food to keep it going until it had learned to fly. The callous reply back was "either put it back where you found it or knock it on the head".
Sod that I thought. I went down to the bottom of the garden where the baby crow had taken refuge on top of the compost heap, and scooped a spoonful of food out of one of Scaredy's tins. The bird hopefully opened it's beak wide so I popped a bit of food in, and then made a hasty retreat as I was being dive-bombed by angry parent crows.
Today I saw what I thought was a frog hopping across the lawn. When I went to investigate I found it was a baby coal tit that had just fledged.
The nest is in the corrugations of the garage roof and I had been watching the parents flying in and out feeding their babies for the last few days.
This is the parent bird just about to pop into it's nest. I heard a few indignant tweets from the bird as it circled about, so I backed off, scooped up Scaredy and shut him in a room upstairs for the day.
I went back outside to check on 'my' bird and found Badger trying to round it up.
A very firm and assertive "NO, LEAVE" and Badger left. I couldn't have Badger trying to bite it on the back leg, could I?