The dove I took in has made itself quite at home here in the house. I am happy to report that it is developing well and
seems very healthy. While not quite fully mature, the new adult feathers are opening, and the bird is looking more like an
adult each day.
Our relationship is much less simple or predictable, however. I was aware that young birds can bond with their human
care-givers, and though I had not planned to keep this one as any kind of pet, neither had I stringently endeavored to
avoid touching the bird, or feeding it directly with my fingers, or speaking sweetly to it. As a result, it has become quite
affectionate, in rather typical dove fashion. It regularly flies onto my head, or onto my wife's head, and it enjoys cuddling
into our laps or on my shoulder to nap after preenings.
Similarly, our gentle dogs have not dissuaded this bird from feeling comfortable here. So, now the dove has no fear of
the dogs, whatsoever.
Of course, herein lies the rub: now I feel quite reluctant to let it go back to the wild.
On the one hand, it shows absolutely no indication that it wants to go back outside. It seems quite content
to watch through the window, or to sit at ease in its cage when I take that outside for sunnings.
But, there is some number of reasons -- fully aside from my own affection for the sweet bird -- that leaves
me feeling entirely reluctant about releasing it.
One, is that this city is currently ranked as worst in the US for cases of the West Nile Virus, a vector-borne disease
that employs birds as hosts. Add to that the fact that my city has decided to combat mosquitoes by spraying toxins throughout
the entire Valley area, and the outdoors becomes a less hospitable place.
Then, behaviorally, this dove seems to have no fear of humans, dogs, or possibly even cats -- the latter abounding in
this neighborhood in fiercely predatory fashion. As I have mentioned, I lost a dove like this one years ago to one such cat,
and that bird was not tame nor used to other animals, as this one has become.
Also, this is "monsoon season" here, and the storms can be quite dangerous. Two years ago, I went around outside the
house, collecting doves which had been beaten out of the trees by the heavy winds and rain. After a night drying out
in boxes in my kitchen, they seemed no worse for wear the next morning, but these were the luckier ones, for they too would
have fallen prey while their sodden wings prevented flight. If I could catch them so easily, the cats would have dined gluttonously.
So, I am forced to consider deeply the welfare of this dove, and this involves some good amount of additional rationalization,
as well. For example, I remind myself that -- were it not for me -- that same aforementioned dove-eating cat (in whose yard
I found this baby dove) would surely have had him for lunch; this bird lives because of my intervention, quite directly.
Perhaps I could have been more clinical with those efforts, so as to have not allowed the bird to bond with me. But, I live
in a house, not a laboratory, and this would have been quite impractical, as far as I can imagine. In one sense then, the
bird owes its very life to my efforts.
Ethically, so long as the bird seems content to reside here -- and it certainly does seem that way -- who am I to now
kick him out into the "real world"? That world is a far more dangerous and frankly filthy place than is the interior of this
house, with fresh water and food, daily. I see the wild birds drinking whatever has run off of carports, or eating God-knows-what
kind of detritus from this neighborhood's waste.
I don't for a moment think that I can replace Mother Nature (which I contend is no longer what She intended, thanks to
us), but for the time being, the bird is in far better hands - sometimes, literally -- than it would be trying to fend for
itself in the current conditions outside. Presently, there is no question about not letting the bird go. In the long term,
however, I still wonder what is the "right thing" to do here.
Perhaps the reality of this sort of relationship is that -- once I have intervened -- neither I or the dove will ever
been the same. I cannot take back any "damage," nor any benefits, I have conferred upon this tiny creature.
Of course, I adore doves and their kin, so I am otherwise happily willing to tend to its needs for as long as it has
them. The rewards are plenty (notwithstanding the similarly plentiful bird dirt the bird offers up to become part of the household,
as well).
When we bond with anything -- whether dove-to-human, human-to-dog, or human-to-human for that matter, we best had better
be able to accept the good along with any bad results of such relations.
For now, the dove stay indoors...and usually on my shoulder or lap, as it greatly prefers.
