Mr. Bird goes to the hospital

For the last week, we noticed Mr. Bird was limping severely.

He stopped flying up to his tall roost at night and instead spent the night in the stubby hurricane-broken tree in the McLaren's front yard. He hid all day in the hedge in front of our house, under Anna's window.

All the neighbors were alarmed and at least three of us, separately, called the Wild Bird Care Center about him.

Lee, our neighbor, says he has a big hole in his foot ,a bleeding open wound. I didn't see it, but I did observe him repeatedly picking at his lame foot, presumably where the wound is.

Finally, this morning, the Wildlife Care Center came and got him, called by Lee, who is Mr. Bird's biggest fan. (Well, that's a tough competition; Sophia, the lady next door to Lee is obsessed with bird's injury.) She was ready to grab the bird and take him by car to a vet. Lee said, not knowing whether Mr. Bird would hold still, she didn't think it was good to drive with him uncaged in your car!)

Lee says the young fellow from the wildlife center brought a big net but ended up just grabbing Bird, and he went along docilely. He may be too weak to fight; we're not sure.

The Wildlife Care Center will care for him and, presuming he gets better, someone has to "adopt" him and transport him home. Sophia, apparently, is convinced there is a big risk somebody else will adopt him first.

We are, of course, hoping the Wildlife Center knows just what to do with peacocks with holes in their feet. (Smear his foot with Neosporin? Put antibiotics in his food?)