Monday was all about the birds. The night before, our daughter had found a baby bird walking down the dirt road near our house. She brought it home and my wife fed it (dog food mashed up into a soup and fed through an eye dropper.) Monday morning we contacted the Ellicott Wildlife Rehabilitation Center; they said bring it in, so we did. We were greeted by Phil, who lives there with his wife and immediately identified our find as a baby horned lark. We got a tour of the place, with a series of cages holding critters from baby bunnies to raptors; the owl haven was our favorite. We left knowing the baby bird was in good hands.
Then it was time to tend to one of our chickens, injured the day before by a visiting dog. (It was our fault; we didn’t check to make sure the chickens were in their enclosure before letting dogs out into the side yard.) We didn’t think she was hurt too badly, but then we found a clot of feathers on the ground with some skin attached. We thought it was the tail, but instead found an ugly wound under a wing. I spent the afternoon fixing up a chicken coop that we had used when our chickens were younger and smaller and that out dog Hank had done his best to destroy. We put the wounded hen in there in isolation, since we had read that chickens will peck at another chicken’s wounds, and applied medicine. So far the hen is hanging in there.