Purpose in Progress

Occasionally we see American Kestrels flying close to our house, riding the wind currents as they hunt small bugs and critters in the grass and scrub. On this day a few weeks ago, we had two, even though I only was able to take good pictures of one.

The last few weeks, we have watched them move from the corral, the rail fences, and barbed wire fences as they hunted the pasture and draws. Swooping into the prairie grass they targeted and enjoyed filling their bellies. This female stayed busy – ever alert and never resting.

It has to be challenging to be both predator and prey. Their small size means they cannot relax like the large hawks, owls, and local golden or bald eagles can. I’ve never seen them resting or sleeping.

When I took these photos in the last several weeks, I had no idea what challenges awaited and came to a head these last few days for these birds or their soon-to-be family.

The afternoon of June 30th, I began to hear the familiar chirping of a bird in our chimney area that made my stomach drop. You see, we’ve had a long struggle with birds finding their way into our roof or chimney walls and falling into the sections around or down the pipe of our two-sided propane fireplace. Often, they fall into the side cavities of the firebox itself (which is far harder to make a rescue from).

Not being able to withstand listening to a creature die of hunger or injury, my husband had previously cut out holes in our drywall behind our tall baseboards to retrieve the ones that fell that far down. This week though, the sounds of baby chicks of some description were above the fireplace box and behind our mantle – taller than our retrieval holes down near the floor.

Most unfortunately, their chirps were above metal protective plating that ran across the propane firebox. This was a problem. They were not in the chimney pipe – they were outside of it but boxed into the walls around it.

I called our local Game and Fish warden and also was in touch with a northern Colorado-based raptor center for help, and despite many photos sent, no one could figure how to extract them.

Once my husband was home from work that night, and with my agreement, he went to work tearing a hole through the metal plating to hopefully get them to exit to a space our hands could reach. We never use the fireplace and it’s summer – so there is time to make repairs later. When that didn’t produce a hole big enough, he next used a crow bar to bend in the chimney pipe inward from the small hole he had punched in the metal plate, effectively widening it.

My hopes were falling around 10p.m. when we realized we were dealing with downy and white kestrel nestlings whose nest had fallen down the chimney somehow. These are federally protected birds as well. Too small and not coordinated enough to waddle easily to the hole we made for them. Our arms couldn’t reach into the space below the hole either. All we could do was hope that they would see light through the hole and smell the red meat we had tweezered into a pile below it and drop down.

My husband went to bed, having done all he could and being the one of us that leaves nature to be what it is. Unable to lay in bed and listen to their cries, I set up in the recliner to watch the hole for the night.

Around midnight, the sound of chirping was louder. I opened my eyes and saw that one had fallen through our hole to a reachable space! I moved to the fireplace with my ready container and scooped it into my hand and into the box. A feisty thing, it immediately began gaping for food. Success! We had one!

Thus began an all night watch of the nestling in the container now. After deep reading of what to feed a kestrel nestling, I had defrosted some elk meat and chopped it so fine, it was more a cream than fibers of meat. It had to be close to what a parent would eat then regurgitate into the nestling’s mouth – it was the best I could do and still have something grabbable by plastic tweezers.

Guidance I found said to feed no more than % of the baby’s body weight but to feed every 2-3 hours. This also noted if a chick was too far gone, too much food without hydration would kill it. I decided to follow my instinct and gave it 4-5 small drops of pulverized meat. I know it wasn’t enough on the whole, but better to start small than kill it with too much food if it was too dehydrated. The goal was to keep it alive long enough to get it to the game warden or a raptor center the next day.

The nestling gobbled it down like it was water. It cried for more, but it likely didn’t know when to stop either. So we paused there. And thus began the horrible wait for the second chick to follow it’s sibling down the hole.

After a night of zero sleep and a lot of coffee in the morning, I logged in for work (I work from home). The raptor specialists stayed in touch with me through the end of their emergency hours and gave me advice on how to handle the little chick in hand too.

The next day we worked with our wonderful game warden and he came out, picked up the rescued chick but said there was unfortunately no good solutions for the last chick. He took the rescued chick to a local vet that did health certifications and this released the chick to travel across state lines to the Colorado-based raptor center right away.

The remaining nestling was getting weaker and it’s chirps were fainter and less frequent by now going over 24 hours with no food or parent body warmth. I said some prayers for it, however this played out. I played kestrel calls and chirps from a phone app to hopefully keep it’s will to live going until my husband and I would make a last decision on just how much home damage we were willing to do to the fireplace and chimney walls to save it. (Context – we had just shelled out a significant five figure sum for exterior home repairs for damage made by flickers to our stucco surfacing two weeks prior).

After a brief deliberation, we both agreed to pull off the mantle. Thank goodness it was only wood glued in place and popped right off with minimal damage (it would be easy to put back in place). My husband got to cutting out holes where the mantel would hide the damage and FINALLY, we pulled out the last nestling nearly 48 hours after it first fell from the roof.

It was so small, and it could barely move or lift its head and it was still blind with eyes closed. It was so small compared to its more vivacious sibling. And it chirped far less often and much softer. It was clear, its strength was all but gone. In touch with the raptor center much of the evening, I increased the heat slightly and added more soft comfort for this one. It would not touch any meat puree at all and ate nothing. This one was on borrowed time.

The next morning, now two nights with no sleep under my belt and not enough coffee in the world, I logged into work at my usual 6 a.m. The raptor center reached out and noted it was time to move and that we could not wait for the vet clinic’s health visit this time. I alerted the game warden what the plan was from the wildlife center. I drove the little chick to the Wyoming border and met a raptor representative in a suburban full of veterinary supplies and comforts. The gentleman immediately got to work warming the chick, handed me case number documentation and sped the bird to the clinic a half hour away.

That was Thursday the 2nd and since then, we’ve heard word that the first chick was doing well and eating like a champ. The raptor center asked us to wait until Monday at the earliest to check in on the state of the smaller chick. So, we’ve rested up here at the house, repaired the mantel and the fireplace as best we can until pro work is done and cleaned up the mess. Looking forward to getting an update on what happened with the little one soon and hope truly, no more rescues are necessary ever again.