“Hurry! Come look!”

It’s a common phrase around the house, someone is always calling to the other to say they’ve spotted an animal right outside the door and it’s the cutest thing anyone ever saw.  This happened a couple days ago.

It turns out a robin fledgling had made it into the yard and was fluttering about the yard, unable to fly.

I was glad that the fledgling made it into my yard, I knew it would be relatively safe from predators until they learned to fly.  That first day everyone was very careful in the yard- the dogs were never alone outside (the terrier hunts small animals- and wins often so this part was essential), that type of thing.  I watched as the mother robin (I only assume it was the mother, it could have easily been the father) fed her young and chased off any squirrels or chipmunks that got too close to the fledgling.

I thought that the robin and her young would be gone by the next day but I was wrong.  The baby could fly a bit better, but still couldn’t fly high- though much bigger.  Again, I watched the relationship between the robins- the baby learning how to hunt, how to clean it’s feathers, and how to sing.

The next morning I was certain that the robins would be gone.  I watered plants and filled the birdbath, neither the adult or the juvenile were anywhere to be found.  Good, I thought, now the baby can fly.

Only, looking out the upstairs window later I noticed the juvenile on the roof of the garage.  Bigger now the juvenile looked more like an adult robin than ever.  I didn’t see the robins until that evening.  The adult and juvenile came out to feed- the adult catching ants and feeding it to the juvenile, who still begged like a baby.  Well, I thought, at least they’re still safe.

That was yesterday.  Today, as we were leaving to take the dogs on a morning walk, I noticed the juvenile sitting under my neighbors tree.  I almost missed it because the juvenile looked more like an adult robin than ever.  Amazing, I thought.  The life cycle, the growth- the relationship with the parent, it’s beautiful.

After the walk was over I watered the front garden.  I was winding the hose on the front of the house when I noticed the juvenile sitting under my tree.  That ain’t good, I thought to myself, I live (quite unfortunately) on a very busy road.  My plan was to shoo the juvenile to the backyard, just to keep him out of trouble.  I hadn’t even gotten the hose wound up yet and I saw the juvenile try to fly out of the corner of my eye.  I saw him land in the road.  I immediately dropped the hose and turned to get him out of the road…

and watched as a truck ran him over.  The truck didn’t even stop. 

I cried.  I cried for the loss of life.  I cried for the mother who wasn’t around to know that her baby was just killed.  I cried because it was so senseless.

I cried because I was too late to save him.

This juvenile didn’t die from lack of food or water, care, or at the hands of a predator.  This baby died because someone wasn’t paying attention and didn’t slow down.  Save a life, slow the @!$% down.

The juvenile is now buried in my backyard.  I’ll not forget him or the glimpse into the secret world of raising a robin baby anytime soon.