We seem to have a "thing" for birds around here. Last year Earl found a baby Flickerin the woods. Once I was doing some painting in the basement with the window open and a baby chickadee flew in and landed on my knee. No lie. And now, this baby Robin was hopping around the yard. We have cats so we don't like to leave the poor things on the ground. He really couldn't fly yet, much too young to be out of the nest. Poor baby. Isn't he just the cutest? So Earl decided to try to feed him a worm. Baby Robin seemed willing but once his mouth was open and the tasty worm presented he really didn't know what to do with it. I said, "I think he needs it chewed up for him." Neither one of us was dedicated enough to baby Robins survival to actually do that. Go figure.
We decided the best we could do was to take him back to our apple trees and put him up where he would be safe.
He kept jumping out. *Sigh* this rescue business isn't as easy as it should be. I suppose his mama was as exasperated as we were! We ended up putting him in the mock orange that has thicker foliage and smaller branches so he could (hopefully) hold on better.
I love baby birds, don't you?
Since writing this, I haven't seen the little robin in our yard again. I prefer to think he finally figured out how to use his wings and is seeing the world:>)