Pogo’s world

Pogo is a baby house sparrow who was discovered on a farm in southwest Beijing. Based on his plumage and eating habits, he is likely about three weeks old. Given a sparrow’s development time, his egg was likely laid in early June.

This bird is an example of survival against all odds.

His nest included at least two other birds. When my girlfriend and her mom found them, one was already dead. Pogo and his (or her) brother (or sister — he or she is still far too young to sex) were the only survivors. The brother was extremely healthy, but Pogo was not.

At the time of Pogo’s rescue, he had already become a monoplegic — the nerves in his right leg were completely destroyed in his fall from the nest. His foot was completely limp, and despite hopes that it was a muscle injury, it has never recovered.

Familiar with avian care, I went over to my girlfriend’s house to walk them through the basics. Don’t feed him worms because it will kill him. Don’t give him water because it will kill him. Line the bottom of his box otherwise he will develop splayed legs and be unable to perch for his whole life — though given the one-legged hop he now has to do to balance himself, hip deformity is almost a certain for his future.

My girlfriend and her mom cared for the two birds during the day, and I came by to feed them again every night. When the weekend came up, I planned to take them home to give her mom a break. Baby birds, if you don’t know, are demanding — they must be fed every almost 20 minutes. Even while preparing this post, I’ve had to stop to feed Pogo.

Unfortunately, on Friday afternoon, I found Pogo alone. My girlfriend’s mom told me the other bird was dead when she awoke after having refused food for much of the day before. The bird died of internal injuries sustained in his first flight. ‘Lest you think we were negligent in his care, I should point out his living conditions:

• The birds were kept in a small, cardboard box lined with cloth and a fleece cuddle sheet I brought over for them to burrow into when sleeping.
• The box was placed on a table that positioned it directly under an overhang — there was but an inch of space between the top of the box and the cement above it.

Somehow, for his first flight, the brother managed to fly out of that gap, and then headed for the one window out of 12 which was open half-way. He made it out the window before realizing, “Oh fuck, I still can’t fly!” and crashed 14 feet down into the pavement.

I think it’s safe to say it: God had a boner for that bird.

So, I brought Pogo home alone with one spare liner for his box. I wash it every night to prevent him from getting foot infections which are so common to songbirds and pigeons — he doesn’t have a foot to spare.

Pogo has made excellent progress over the weekend. I’ve begun to incorporate boiled millet seeds and cracked corn into his egg-yolk mash. He still has to be fed by hand, or through the straw tool I made. He is quite finicky, and often insists on whichever one is least convenient for me to use at the time. Today, it was really rewarding to see him pecking at cracked corn and scraps on his own. I walled off my office room as a “sparrow-proof” zone for him to play in. He seems quite curious and bounces along the walls.

The shorts on the floor are another thing he loves. Perhaps it’s the nesting thing, but he loves to burrow into whatever is nearby, and when I’m sitting down with him — that means pockets. He loves pockets, and has climbed into mine many times now. He’s also climbed so far up my shorts that I had to take them off to get him out.

I’ve been trying to force him to perch for at least 30 minutes per day. He needs to learn how to perch on only one leg, and how to manage his lame center of gravity. He’s making marked improvement, but he often gives up and flies off whenever he gets the least bit imbalanced. His brother was able to perch very well before he died.

I am hoping his free run of the office will help him build up his leg. He is starting to make it around on one leg quite well now. When we first found him, he was using his right wing like a crutch — it did not work well. He sometimes still sticks a wing out to steady himself, or flaps a bit to keep his balance, but he is improving.

I was considering ending this post with a Save Toby-style picture of Pogo in my pot and some bullshit about how I am hungry, but I had already closed the disc of my Sony Mavica camera when that idea fell into my evil little head. Instead, enjoy some pictures of Pogo, and a short video clip of how he gets around.

Here is a 1.3MB MPG video taken with my photo camera. You can watch it to see how a monopedal bird gets around.

Edit: As per the certain-to-be-generated questions: we did not hand the birds to an animal rescue agency because we live in Beijing. As far as I know, the only official involvement with wild animals is exterminating them when they enter the city, unless they are an endangered species. The common house sparrow is decidedly not endangered.