Tuesday, 22 October 2013

African Pygmy-Kingfisher - A story of support



This amusing story has been sent to us.

''I have a story about an African Pygmy Kingfisher....

I walk every morning and on Thursday my 2 walking partners and I came across what I thought was a baby Malachite in the middle of the road looking quite distressed.  It was quite chilly as the sun hadn’t yet risen past tree level.
I immediately picked it up and then the debate started as to what we should do. The little thing had, by this time, closed its eyes and looked as if it was going to sleep.  I had heard somewhere that you never remove a chick from the immediate vicinity as the parents would continue to feed it, but that it should be moved to a place of safety- what to do?!
I suggested to my partners that they continue and I would find a safe place and stand guard!  They were more than happy to oblige.
Now my thought processes kicked into overdrive.  I needed somewhere warm, safe and comfortable that would also allow the parents to feed it or for it to fly off.  My logic told me that the little thing must be able to fly otherwise how would it have found itself in the middle of the road a good distance from the closest tree or bush.
My bra – of course!  I had a quick look around, no-one in sight.  So, off it came.
I took off for the nearest tree, found a lovely fork in the branches protected and hidden by leaves, placed the bra and gently laid the little bird in the cup.  He lay on his side with his eyes closed and my thought was that he would at least die in relative comfort!
We returned about 45 minutes later to find the bird standing up, eyes wide and bright and feathers all fluffed up – he looked quite chirpy.  I decided to leave my bra and the little bird behind – a small price to pay!
When I got home I looked him up in my Roberts Guide to confirm and realised I had rescued an adult African Pygmy Kingfisher and not a baby Malachite – the violet cheek patches being unmistakable
I returned a few hours later to find my bra in place with a little ‘poep’ (presumably of thanks!) and no bird.........''

by Mary Mckenzie