Fresh Food, Water And TLC

At eight days into his recovery, Friend managed a three-foot flight from the edge of the box to the end of the bed. That it was made at the cost of some pain was obvious because when he landed, he allowed his wing to droop even more than usual and did not try to fly again when I went to put him back in the box. I did not handle him. I simply urged him up onto the screen lid, then turned and allowed him to step down onto the box. As I made to lower the screen over him, he hopped onto the branch quite obligingly.

At this point, I had still not discovered how badly damaged his wing was. Only later did I see the bones protruding through the skin on the bottom side of his "elbow." He was eating well. He was active. He was vocal. Those were the points which kept my hope alive, but I had yet another concern. His flock seemed to be thinning out. His recovery and eventual release was not something I could hurry along. As gregarious as Grosbeaks are, I was afraid his pals might go off and leave him behind.