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A Dove in the Studio

Sunday, June 27, 2010

photo by Phoebe Linnea Thompson

There are pets, like Chet Baker, and there are wild things, and when you hand-feed a wild thing for weeks and help it learn how to do what it needs to do to survive; when you become its mother, that line blurs. My style of raising birds is labor and time-intensive. It's rooted in my need to know that they're going to be able to make it on their own.

Most people think that when a baby bird "learns to fly," it's ready to be on its own. Nothing could be farther from the truth. The post-fledging period is a critical one. It's when the bird follows its parents around, watching them and learning from them. It's the time when a bird learns what's good to eat and what's inedible. It learns vigilance and wariness and it gets the lay of the land. You make darn sure that bird knows how to pick up all its own food and keep its weight up before you ever let it go. At least I do. I err on the conservative side.

It's hard to impart any of that to a bird when you're a big lumbering grounded human. The first step, for me, is to allow the bird some freedom in the comparatively safe confines of my house. This means you get doo-doo on your laptop now and then. It's all part of the scene.

Hmm. What to blog about?

Blog about meeee. People will like that. I like looking at pictures of me; why wouldn't they?

Like when I met Sara and Kelly. That was awesome. I'm not sure they'd ever held a mourning dove before.

When Phoebe's in the studio, we come up with photo ops together. This was her idea.

It was about at this point that "Olivia" went from "Libby Lou" and straight to "Pweep."

Pweep is what she says when you speak to her. So we figure that's her name. Or maybe it's her word for "people." Or the dove equivalent of "Mama."

Like when she's perched on your 2-terabyte hard drive, which you got so you won't lose all your data when a mourning dove, say, overturns a water jar on your laptop (which she didn't; I'm just giving a what-if)

and you say, "Libby Lou! What are you doing?" and she answers, "Pweep!"

Gotta go! Got dove bidness to attend to.

Ooh, I just love this lil' post, love remembering what it was like having a dove around for a few blessed weeks. Speaking of remembering, my friend Debby Kaspari is moving on with her life. She and Mike may have found a house to buy. They're still dealing with disposing of all the debris from the one the tornado flattened. Because their subdivision was unincorporated, insurance won't cover any of that cost, which could go as high as $20,000. What a drag, to have to pay to haul away the bits of what was once your house.

Dear friend Murr, she of the Baker quilt, who has never met Debby in person, created a T-shirt design so she could help. All proceeds will go to the recovery fund. It's got some nice Murr-created Oklahoma birds on it, and it says "Nest in Peace." There are a million different styles of shirt; scoops and tanks and all kinds of cool ones, so you won't be stuck with a crewneck Fruit o' the Loom. I'm thinkin' nightshirt, myself. You can get yourself a Team Kaspari shirt right here.

Thanks, Murr. You're the bomb.


Just ordered the Women's Babydoll fitted shirt, in lime. If you like fitted shirts, be aware that they're teeny, and order a size up. There's a nice sizing chart at the Zazzle site.

Hmm. Pretty cool way to market stuff. Could there be a Chet Baker shirt in our future?

I'm very fond of mourning doves. Very sweet to read about the care you gave to this little one.

This is, for me, a very post-modern post. Libby is a po-mo modo.

And my verification word is "dicticks"

It's going to be an interesting day.

AAAAAA! Po-mo modo! The sound of my day being made.

I've been looking forward to the Libby Lou posts and this one was the bestest. I'll bet there's more, too.

I think with a lime shirt you'll get lime-colored flycatchers, but let me know. I think Mr. Baker is out posing for his shirt now--better check?

Why thank you, ever sentient and incisive LOG, for picking up on the utter bizarritude of a blog post picturing a bird standing on a computer watching itself be blogged about--Escherian in its mirrored complexity...Sometimes I blow my own little mind and wonder if anybody else picks up on it or if they just yawn and go check their Facebook updates without giving it a second thought. Phoebe, of course, has always traveled in that zone.

I hope to be the one looking out the window of the spaceship yelling "Ga-aaw-lee!" as we travel to colonize Mars.

If none of that made sense, I do not apologize. It's what was in my brain, so I disgorged it. Ahh, better now.

Chet Baker continues to amaze me ! A terror for chiptymunks yet safe around a baby bird...because you said so. He is a very special puppy !

I think Murr's shirt is wonderful, such a thoughtful thing to do. I concur, she is "da bomb" !

Th' Bacon is a marvel, 'tis true. He knows that rabbits and chipmunks and deer are to be routed and chased, and the rest are to be left in peace. Any young baby thing in my care is as safe with him as it is with me and the kids. He can tell when you love something.

"If none of that made sense, I do not apologize. It's what was in my brain, so I disgorged it. Ahh, better now."

I suddenly had an image of you pulling a memory out of your head with a wand ala Harry Potter!

Well, you've got underwear, time for outer wear.

Tell Phoebe her photography is splendid! Soul soothing...

Tell Phoebe her photography is splendid! Soul soothing...

That is one sweet dove. Your families have a very angelic heart. You have taken care of that pity dove so good.

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