CHARLIE'S DOVE COTE

With special Thanks to Colleen, a first rate Dovester.

La Paloma

OL' BALDIE

Surrounded by the cooing and calling of doves in not a bad place to reside.  Read my latest dove experience following the links at the bottom of the page.

Sometime around Easter several years ago, my phone rang at 5AM.  It was a local dovester in distress.  Something had entered into her cage of doves.  It had killed some of the babies, maimed many of the adults.  But, her concern was for one little baby, still not feathered out, seriously injured.  It would have to be handfed.    Why Not!!  I've handfed parrots, but never a dove.  I knew the technique was totally different than that used with hookbills. She brought the little tyke to me in a brown paper lunch sack.  When I peeked in, I couldn't believe my eyes.  It was so small and so mangled.  Would I take the baby?  I knew "NO" was not an appropriate answer.  So "Yes," I will take the little one and see what I can do.  At first glance, I wasn't sure if it would make it due to the severe nature of the wound.  Maybe a peaceful end to its little life would be most appropriate.  With a major portion of the scalp, from the beak all the way back to between the wings missing, he was going to be a challenge to my nursing and my handfeeding skills. What do I know about doves?  Absolutely nothing!  So, off to the internet to look for some help.  I found the website for the American Dove Association, dropped them an e-mail relating my situation  Before long I had mail, some much needed encouragement for the out of place parrot person and a welcome to the wonderful world of doves.  The folks at the ADA stood by me through my entire ordeal with Ol' Baldie and kept me going. With much mess and insistence, Ol' Baldie learned to eat.  You notice I didn't say I learned to feed!  It was a matter of trial and error (many errors) before I found the best "feeding pouch" for me was a plastic zip-lock freezer bag with one corner cut out.  I'd fill the bag with food and stick Ol' Baldie's little beak in the open corner.  He soon learned to suck up the sloppy mix.  Ol' Baldie had a will to live that I've seldom seen in small orphaned tykes.  Bubba, the blue budgie, had it; Scooter, a severely splay-legged cockatiel has it, and LuLu, a Hahn's macaw with deformed legs, has it. Without that will, nothing I could have done, could have saved him.  But, it wasn't long until he was eating smashed corn on the cob and the game bird starter soaked in warm water.  Soon the millet sprays disappeared faster than I could put them in the cage, and I knew then, Ol' Baldie was going to be a survivor.  But, the head.  The infection seemed to stay, nothing cleared it.  The entire head was one big oozing mass of unidentifiable stuff.  One eye was so swollen it couldn't open and I couldn't find the other one. At the time I was working full time.  I'd run home for my lunch break so I could clean Ol' Baldie's head and feed him.  Gradually, the constant attention got a hold on the infection.  What a feeling of relief the noon I opened the door to the bird room and found him perched on the little perch in his hospital cage he called home.  I believe that was the definitive day for me.  I knew we were all going to make it.  Ol' Baldie could perch and eat on his own.  Supplemental feedings continued only in the evening for a while longer. Personally, I hate to see any critter without a companion of his own kind to help him establish an identity.  I had been working primarily with parrots and other hookbills.   What kind of identity could I give Ol' Baldie -- that of a parrot!  I don't think so!  I put out a call to my bird friends.  I was looking for some "handicapped" doves, yearlings, spring hatch.  They came.  A white dove with a dislocated wing, two ring necks, one missing toes, the other with some sort of growth on the top of his head.  A pretty little sandy colored baby missing a leg showed up on my porch in a paper sack.  In fact, they are still coming with all sorts of parts missing or disabilities.  hhmmm..I guess I'm in the Dove Business!! This was my second venture away from parrots.  Earlier in the spring during prime migratory time, I received a call at 6AM from one of the officers at the prison.  They had found a small "duck-like thing" on the highway.  She said it must be wounded because they could "pick it right up."  When I arrived at  her home and opened the box, they were right.  It was a "duck-like thing."  I had no idea what it was!  I took it by the vet and was told it was a grebe and that the "rehab lady" was out of town for a week!  Then he told me it needed water and fish....whooppee..there goes my bathtub.  A quick trip to the bait shop for minnows and some water in the bathtub, turn the minnows loose (I don't believe I'm doing this!) and a rock and a piece of log so he can get out of the water...Wallah!!!!  Instant marsh and one happy grebe!  Once he was rested and regained his bearings, and I tracked down the wild life rehabber.  Finally I had my bathtub back. Wild life rehab takes a special person and in many places, special permits.  If you find a distressed critter of the wild, contact your local rehab person.  I don't recommend anyone turn their bathroom into Field and Stream! For additional information on working with wildlife, check out my page:  So -- You Found a Baby Bird.  There are links there to wildlife rehab personnel and more information on caring for these birds until you can get them to the vet or rehabber.

Charlie's Pigeon Loft

Take Me Home Charlie's Angels We Call Charlie's "Home" Who Will Take Care of Your Birds? Caravan Across Texas A Little Birdy Told Me

You've Found a Baby Bird

My Page

MONKees Come To Texas Are You Ready for an Emergency: Where is Your First Aid Kit? Accidental Aviculturist

Don't Let Your Halo Slip! Be An Angel Support PDD Research

Pigeon Breeder's Lung Splay Leg

Link Up A Thinking Place

birdangel@hotmail.com

Sunday, February 19, 2000 was an eagerly awaited day.  It was the day of the bird auction at Jarrell, TX and I was looking for mates for some of my pigeons.  Up early, I feed and watered all the critters in the dark so I could make it down the road by 8AM when the auction opened.  In the rush, I failed to properly secure the latch on my dove holding cage.  The doves held in this cage were youngsters available for sale or trade.  There were only 8 in there but they were the prettiest tangerine pieds I'd seen in some time.  I was so proud of them.

When I came home,  I made my rounds checking food, water and everyone's well-being.  The door on the holding cage was open and all eight doves were gone.  My heart sank to the pit of my stomach, tears came to my eyes -- I knew exactly what I had done in the rush that morning.  I had failed to properly latch the door.  Looking up in the pecan tree on the neighbor's property, there were 6 tangerine blobs on the upper branches.  Under the pomegranate shrub on the property behind me was a little beak and black eye peeking out from the branches. And one little doves was on the lowest branch of the pecan tree, bleeding. They were all there.  How was I going to get them?

I set up a "Judas Cage" with an older male, hoping his calling and cooing would at least bring the females back.  It worked, I got one back.  In the meantime I ran around the block and through the property behind me to pick up the dove from the shurb before the neighbor's cats spotted it! Stuffing the dove in my T-shirt and running back home, I  turned my attention to the youngest dove, the one injured in the tree.  Climbing  an old wooden ladder leaning against the fence, I netted the little tyke, noticing for the first time the severity of the injury... a torn crop.  When I pulled the little one out from under my shirt, I noticed he was missing most of the feathers on his back and his tail and he had a long scratch under his wing.  Warm up the brooder, turn it into a hospital cage and try not to panic.  As any parent can tell you, maintaining your sanity when one of your own is injured is a very difficult thing to do.

People can laugh, tease, degrade and belittle the idea of a "cyber-friend" all they want.  But thanks to the folks on a couple of e-mail lists, DOVES@onelist.com and doves-pigeons@onelist.com I received immediate responses to my questions on dealing with the torn crop.  First to my rescue was a dear young lady in the Northwest, Dani, and her Mom, Paula. Paula got on the internet and had her friend, Nome, e-mail me with step by step directions for sewing up a crop.  The little ones with the injuries were cleaned up, patched up, and warmed up.

After about 5 days in the hospital cage, the little tykes were "bounching off the walls," wanting to move and stretch their wings, wanting to be free to fly.  I put them in a smaller flight for a couple of days, they did fine.  They have now been moved back to the larger flight with the older doves.  The only way I can distinguish these from the others is by their missing feathers.  They have bounced back from their ordeal with amazing speed.  These little ones will not be for sale -- they will live here.  Since this experience I have also added a few more items to my first aid kit: suture material, liquid bandage and Crazy Glue.

I had eight doves escape that day, I have 8 back....but three are still up in the tree!  I guess my doves ran out and picked up some friends!  I know that the three in the tree are mine; I can tell by the bands.  Three do not have bands.  I have no idea where they came from or where they belong.  They are now "off the streets" and in a quarantine flight.  The three doves still free are flying with my racing pigeons..  When the doves see the homers coming in after a training flight, they fly out to meet them!  What a sight -- seeing those three little tangerine doves trying to keep up with those big hungry pigeons looking to get home to eat!!!  They so remind me of a "little brother." peddling his bike as fast as he can,  trying to keep up with the "big kids", as they head for the park to play.

The sad part is that I'm afraid since the doves are so much slower, smaller and less agile in flight than the pigeons, they will be good "hawk bait."  I'm still trying desperately to catch them and get them back into a secure place.

9/00