Last evening, I was standing on our deck looking at one of the most amazing sunsets casting a yellow-beige hue that faded into a purple sky, where a full, double rainbow hung. Out of the rain drizzle, a small pigeon-like bird flew over to me and landed 2 feet from where I stood. I thought it odd that a bird would come so close, and moved in to see what was going on with the little guy. He didn't move, just looked me up and down, so I crept closer and closer until I noticed that he appeared to be missing his upper beak.
I moved into action, recalling my experiences with the parrots we rescued and had as pets a few years back. I grabbed a couple of towels and a cardboard box, captured the little injured fellow, and tried to figure out what to do with him. Feed him sugar water and super glue on a homemade beak? Let him go out into the wild and fulfill his destiny? Look for a wild animal rescue and play hero? I went with number three and started calling around and looking on the internet for the right place to take Mr. Pidggy.
I found Project Wildlife, and decided to let him spend the night with me. If he was still alive and willing, we would head there in the morning. When I went upstairs to get him this a.m., he had escaped from the box-bed and was hanging out on the floor making cooing noises. I toweled him, boxed him, and we jumped in the car before he could poo all over the carpet.
I showed up at Project Wildlife with this little box and they said they would be happy to take him (even though my dad insisted he was just a stupid pigeon). I look forward to an email describing whether or not he was rehabbed and released, or sent to the big sky in the sky. Good luck little dude.