Ms. Bird goes to the hospital: Is she sick or just depressed?

We were awakened at 7:30 a.m. today when our neighbor called to report Ms. Bird's disturbing behavior. Not roosting in a tree as is her normal practice, she stood all night on her covered patio, hunched over, with her head down – a portrait of patheticness – or perhaps depression.

She ignored food, water and people, allowing neighbor Sophia to pet her. (She would be way too wary for this normally.) Her eyes were closed, and seemed to have fluid around them.

By her appearance, it was clear she was in bad shape.

Now, keep in mind, this is one day after we removed her eggs from her nest, which clearly upset her.

Neighbors Lee and Sophia wanted to call the wild-bird doctor or the wildlife care center.

After seeing her condition, I agreed we needed professional help. I called Dr. Renata Schneider, the vet who cared for Mr. Bird, but got a phone message saying she was on maternity leave.

Next, I called the Wildlife Care Center, which agreed to come out first thing and take her into their care.

The sad bird put up little struggle when the wildlife worker went to grab her and put her in an animal crate. In a moment, she was off to the hospital.

(Just an aside: How is it possible that a sick peahen gets better, quicker medical care than a sick child?)

Later, we visited the Wildlife Care Center and were happy Dr. Schneider, Mr. Bird's doc, had come in and was examining her.

We don't have a diagnosis yet, but we know she's getting the best care possible.

We wonder, though: Is it really possible for a peahen to be so sad that she makes herself sick?

I was surprised when the fellow with whom I spoke at the Wildlife Care Center considered that a viable option – that she was suffering from depression. He suggested that when we get her back, we get another peafowl for company.

First, though, let's get Ms. Bird well.

Nesting can be dangerous, which is why it's over

Three of Ms. Bird's eggs next to a chicken egg. (Guess which is which.)

We were worried about our lovely peahen Ms. Bird spending the night on the ground sitting on her newly laid eggs. After all, Mr. Bird was 6 feet off the ground when a evil raccoon dragged him down and killed him about a year ago. There are predators out there!

So, last night at 5:30 a.m., when David awakened to Ms. Bird's squawks (didn't wake me!), we were alarmed.

Indeed, we got up and, from our dining room, shined a flashlight at the nest. No Ms. Bird. She had fled.

But there was a great big evil-looking possum approaching those big eggs. From inside, I yelled at him and he cowered, pulling back. Eventually, David got dressed and we scared the opossum away.

But there was no sign of Ms. Bird. Just a few feathers where her nest and four perfect eggs sat.

Despite the hour, we both paced the yard, searching for a sign of her. None.

Then the question: Should we take the eggs — we were 99.9% sure they were infertile — to prevent her from sitting on them for days, at the risk of her life?

We decided to take the eggs inside, where they would be safe from the opossum. We "candled" the eggs with the powerful flashlight, determining they were not fertile. Then we went back to sleep.

At 6:30 a.m., we were up. She still wasn't on the nest.

We worried about Ms. Bird and her whereabouts. A few hours later, we heard that honking/squawking noise.

Here she was — heading for her egg-less nest.

It broke our hearts to see her hunting for those missing eggs. She honked and honked. She sat on the place where they had been, then got up and looked around. ("Now where did I leave those eggs?")

It took a long time, but she eventually moved on, a broken hearted mother. But she was behaving instinctively. She couldn't know that the eggs would never hatch into chicks and she would have risked her life sitting on them for 28 days or more.

Meanwhile, these enormous peafowl eggs are now in our fridge.

David says: Make am omelet. They were not fertile, and it is a sin to waste them.

I'm not sure yet.

Congratulations? We have eggs!

Mystery solved.

Ms. Bird, our neighborhood's lovely white peahen, has laid four eggs in our bushes. Mid-day, I heard that same strange honking outside and rushed out to see what she was doing. She was noisily walking and squawking through the back yard, so I peered over at where she had been so resolutely sitting in the bushes.

Yup. Four eggs: A bit bigger than chicken eggs, but not enormous.

I snapped the photo, went inside to send it to folks, and, within 10 minutes, she was back sitting on those eggs again.

A good mother. Ummm. But I don't think our celibate girl is sitting on anything that's going to hatch.

Maybe the recent honking was part of the nesting routine. Maybe she's been hiding in the bushes with her secret eggs for awhile.

(I am tempted, at this point, to say "only time will tell." Except I can never write that, because I make my Florida Atlantic University students excise if from their blogs and challenge them to find original words to express themselves.)

So: We'll see, I guess.

Breaking news: We think Ms. Bird is sitting on eggs

We were disturbed last night to discover Ms. Bird cozied up in a corner behind some bushes as the sun set after a rainy day. She has always, to our knowledge, roosted in a tree.

It wasn't easy to spot her. She's well-hidden, though right below our dining room window, so we can see her if we look directly down.

This morning, alas, she was still there.

Our first thought: Oh no. She's sick!

And then it occurred to David: It's spring, she has laid some eggs.

Of course, we don't think there's been a male around, but chickens lay infertile eggs, right?

A little online research indicates that indeed peahens, beginning around age 2, will lay eggs once a year without males if they are healthy and well-nourished.

If fertile, the eggs take 28 days to hatch.

Does that mean poor Ms. Bird is stuck in the bushes without food or water for 28 days sitting on infertile eggs?

We tried putting out some seeds this morning. She didn't budge.

Do we bring food and water to her nest?

Why is Ms. Bird honking?

The lovely Ms. Bird has been scarce around here. After hanging out with us hours each day, we've barely seen for the last 10 days. We do hear her, though, honking in the distance, nearly every day.

Today, she showed up in our backyard, honking away. It isn't a happy sound.

What's up with her?

Ms. Bird lavishes her presence upon us

The beautiful Ms. Bird remains a frequent visitor to our yard but travels afar and apparently sleeps around, so to speak. She spent a night last week in our oak tree, something she hasn't done in many months.

Typically we hear her crowing in the morning, half a block away, and wonder where she slept. But then she will show up at our back door and, if we're lucky, spend much of the day resting (and even napping) on our deck.

Laurie, our animal friendly neighbor, has fed a family of Muscovy ducks on her lawn since they were chicks, and Ms. Bird quite often joins them for meals. Apparently, she doesn't consider herself too good for the despised Muscovies. Well, after all, they can swim and even fly a distance if they want.

What Ms. Bird would really like is another peacock to pal around with, and we are sure that is the reason for her occasional loud crowing. If she gets an answer, she might well rush off to find a friend.

Unless and until that happens, she will have to put up with ducks and people as company. We're glad to be among those people.