Successful Rescue Effort
A friend called with concerns about a curve-billed thrasher (toxotoma curvirostre) nestling. Its wing appeared to be caught on the spines of the cholla cactus in which the mother had nested. I volunteered to help free it and arrived armed with heavy gloves, long-handled pruning shears, and tweezers. The nest was well hidden within the cactus's horrendously prickly limbs, so it took quite a bit of delicate hacking to reach it. With my friend's husband pitching in as well, each of us paused from time to time, hopping up and down in pain as we tried to extract the sharp spines from fingers, elbows, and knees. Once we got a good look at the bird it became clear that it was anchored to the nest by a long piece of thread that had wound itself around one foot. It was now of an age where it was large enough to leave the nest. After much more difficult manouvering we finally got our hands on the bird and freed it. Its worried mother, meanwhile, had been calling plaintively from a nearby tree. The nest was by now entirely devoid of soft cushioning, so I gathered up some duff and reinforced it before we returned our patient to its former abode. This morning I bicycled down to check on the situation just as the mother and what was presumably the rescued nestling both flew into a nearby tree. All is well, apparently.
This is not the actual cholla involved, but is representative.
Successful Rescue Effort
A friend called with concerns about a curve-billed thrasher (toxotoma curvirostre) nestling. Its wing appeared to be caught on the spines of the cholla cactus in which the mother had nested. I volunteered to help free it and arrived armed with heavy gloves, long-handled pruning shears, and tweezers. The nest was well hidden within the cactus's horrendously prickly limbs, so it took quite a bit of delicate hacking to reach it. With my friend's husband pitching in as well, each of us paused from time to time, hopping up and down in pain as we tried to extract the sharp spines from fingers, elbows, and knees. Once we got a good look at the bird it became clear that it was anchored to the nest by a long piece of thread that had wound itself around one foot. It was now of an age where it was large enough to leave the nest. After much more difficult manouvering we finally got our hands on the bird and freed it. Its worried mother, meanwhile, had been calling plaintively from a nearby tree. The nest was by now entirely devoid of soft cushioning, so I gathered up some duff and reinforced it before we returned our patient to its former abode. This morning I bicycled down to check on the situation just as the mother and what was presumably the rescued nestling both flew into a nearby tree. All is well, apparently.
This is not the actual cholla involved, but is representative.