say hello to my little friend

A post in more need of a picture is hard to imagine. On the way home, as I cycled along the bike path next to the freeway, I peddled past a magpie chick, all fluff and few feathers, sitting dejectedly right next to the road. I made it about 50m past the little fella before stopping and turning back to see what was wrong. He was alive, just sitting there, and after a few moments wondering whether or not he'd peck me or not I decided he'd not and picked him up. His wings were not fully developed but he was walking pretty well, and almost as soon as I placed him on the grass verge he waddled to his feet and started trundling back towards the road. At this point he looked more like roadkill than cat food.

Another cyclist stopped and we had a quick chat, the conclusion of which was I'd not be able to do anything. He rode off and I had a pang of conscience. Could I do anything? I quickly decided putting the little fella in my bag was not a good idea as he may shit over everything. I had a clear plastic bag that I'd taken my lunch to work in that I popped him into, then got back on my bike and rode on, making sure I didn't close the bag and suffocate him or bang him against my knee as I held him dangling from my handlebars.

We made it home and I pulled him out of the bag, went inside and told Sal what I'd done to which she seemed a little less than impressed. She has a bit of previous with maggies. I got a shoe box, ripped some paper and constructed a make-ship nest. Once Sal had finished feeding AJ I took Mike-the-Magpie inside and let Sal take a look at him. He was pretty cute. I went down to get some worms from my compost bin, but he didn't seem too hungry. Fair enough, he'd had a bad day. Jason popped around and we had a natter and he looked in on Mike. We weren't all that clued up on what to do, but keep him warm in a box seemed about right. He seemed to like having his head stroked, but probably didn't.

Anyway, in the end I called a local vet who was open until 20:30, loaded Mike, in his nest-box, into the car and took him over. He was looking a bit grumpy still, but I think he is in pretty good shape. He had made a few decent attempts to escape from the shoe box, but at the same time didn't seem too stressed. I'll give the vet a call tomorrow to see what the prognosis is.

I kinda miss him already, but not sure I'd enjoy feeding the little fella every three hours. A pet Maggie would be cool.

The infomercial: So, if you find an injured native animal call your local vet or local Wildlife Information Rescue and Education Service. But don't take a native friend from the wild; that's illegal.