The thing about Kevin

Today’s post is a bit fraught so, to ease the reader’s mind a bit first, I’m going to start with this Park Panno.

The work van that Gardener Dave is using has a rather touchy alarm. In fact, it doesn’t need to be touched to go off. Another vehicle moving within 15 feet of it is likely to have it screaming and tooting like a banshee. While obviously annoying, it has also proven to be a hazard to wildlife.

At one stage this morning (I was in Farnham and missed it but returned to be more than adequately brought up to date) Mirinda and Gardener Dave were chatting on the terrace when the alarm suddenly sprang into life. There was an instant kerfuffle in the tree and two collard doves leapt into the air. One of them flew off over the garden but the other, poor Kevin, flew straight into the extension.

When I arrived it was to Mirinda and Dave telling me there was a poor bird lying on the tiles and could I help it while they held the two vicious cockerpoos back.

The collard dove did not look well. It was on the floor, beak opening and closing, eyes blinking, fear etched onto its feathery face. Normally if I reach for the birds that fly into the house, they simply shake themselves off and fly away home. Not Kevin.

I carefully picked him up and carried him out to the dovecot, figuring he’d be safe from dog investigations if I put him up high. I tried to stand him up but one of his legs appeared not to be working and he kept collapsing. I gently opened his wings (as I’ve seen Vets on Telly do) but there didn’t seem to be any damage to them.

I assumed it was like Carmen used to be with her paws. She would hurt one and carry on like her leg was broken then, after a bit of hobbling and pity she’d suddenly forget it was sore and go running after something…usually food related. But this was not the case with poor Kevin.

And proving the truth behind the expression ‘bird brain’ Kevin kept jumping off the dovecot and onto the grass. He managed to drag himself under the shrub which has to be the worst place to go for survival. (As I write that it does occur to me that Kevin may have been trying to commit suicide.)

Eventually we gave up putting him back on the dovecot and just left him to heal, keeping a close eye on Freya – Emma didn’t seem too bothered. Except Kevin didn’t heal.

After Gardener Dave had finished for the day and driven his evil beeping van away, we carefully placed Kevin in a big plastic box filled with newspaper (so he had something to read on the trip) and drove him to Leatherhead.

Poor Kevin

There is a closer place to take collard doves (and other wildlife) but they were full up with birds and, like the NHS, had no available beds. Mirinda rang around and found out about the Leatherhead wildlife hospital so off we set.

We ignored Maxine because she just wanted us to go via the peak hour M25 (and other major roads) and we made it in pretty good time with little traffic to speak of. Mind you, we missed the entrance and had to turn around in the crematorium which probably worried Kevin more than anyone else. We pulled into the proper car park and Mirinda took him inside while I walked the girls around to ablute.

Wildlife Hospital

Mirinda returned quite quickly to say that Kevin was resting comfortably and she had a patient number in order to check up on him tomorrow. She was rather taken with the hospital, instantly deciding if it were closer she’d volunteer to work there. I’m not sure in what capacity. Avian Naming, perhaps.

The drive back was just as pleasant, mainly because we went via our old haunts around the Horsleys and Bookham.

It was a day of the unexpected. Apart from my haircut. That was expected.