One day two years ago there were two fledgling bluejay chicks running around my backyard with their parents hovering nearby; I took a few pictures and left them to their flying lessons:
The next day there were no longer any bluejay chicks running around my yard; just a pile of little blue feathers, courtesy of the local stray cats.
(By the way, if you like to adopt stray cats: for Pete's sake, take them in! Don't just feed 'em and let 'em wander the 'hood like my neighbors do--it's damned inconsiderate. Either keep them inside or don't feed them at all.)
Anyway, there were three or four little bluejay chicks running around the backyard yesterday with their parents hovering nearby. Thinking of that pile of little blue feathers and the cats we regularly chase out of our yard, we debated on whether or not to do anything.
This one looked like it hurt its neck falling out of the tree:
It just sat there instead of darting around the yard like its siblings were doing, so Mikey put it back in the nest (and got dive-bombed by angry parents in the process), but the poor thing was soon back on the ground again. It was dead this morning.
There's still one chick running around back there; I sure hope it learns how to fly before the cats find it.
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