Biscuit Daddy
I used to work for a small software company whose office was a single story building in the grounds of a big old country estate. There were a few other businesses in the complex including a veterinarian practice next door. There was also a cat who we'd see from time to time, think he lived in the big house.

One day, I was standing outside smoking a fag when out of the blue (literally) a blackbird tried to sit on my shoulder. It was a female blackbird so was infact brown but let's not concern ourselves too much about her colouring.

My first thought was "wtf? get off!" as I tried to get away from her.

My second thought was "a wild bird wants to sit on my shoulder, I must be Jesus or something", so I let her sit on me.

Turns out that this bird had fallen out of its nest and the vets had reared her then set her free as a young adult. They had named her Tweet.

For the next few days, Tweet always appeared when I was outside smoking, I used to take out a biscuit and feed her a few crumbs, we got quite close.

So close infact that she started coming into our office, hopping along the corridor and onto my desk. She would hop up and down on my keyboard trying to get my attention and I'd have to carry her outside. Not sure what my boss thought but I think he didn't particularly want her in the office.

This carried on for a few more precious days.

Then she stopped coming to see me.

She ignored the broken biscuits that I left outside for her.

I attempted to make bird noises but still she wouldn't come back.

I even asked a friendly pigeon if he'd seen her*.

I think that she had tried to befriend the cat and bearing in mind that she prefered hopping to flying, the furry little bastard ate her.

Happiest days of my life *sniff*

*OK, can't think what else to put.
( stopmeandslapme Cometh the hour, cometh your mum, Fri 5 Dec 2008, 19:02, 2 replies)

That is actually very sweet
I hope the cat did not eat her, but you may be right.

Clicks for picking up birds.
( Rev. Jayneflakes Buy my book, I need the cash for drugs and hookers, Sat 6 Dec 2008, 1:57, closed)

haha
I rescued a baby magpie that'd fallen out of it's nest once.

SBS Jr. named him Maurice

Maurice passed away, unfortunately, but a few months later I spotted another (fully grown) magpie in a spot of bother in a pond.

Said magpie was duly rescued and turned out to only have one leg.

Maurice II lived with us for 6 months, became totally house-trained, and once he'd been fed up enough to survive in the wild, was set free.

He still turns up every now and then, despite the fact that he's obviously coping with life in the wild
(SarcasticBarSteward wants to be good at Photoshop when he grows up, Sun 7 Dec 2008, 0:54, closed)