“I cried because I had no shoes, until I met a man who had no feet.”
On a warm July afternoon a red and green hummingbird buzzed the glass door that leads to the patio in back of our house. Usually, when one of the feisty flock demands our attention it’s because the hummingbird feeder is empty. The aerobatic aces expect us to feed them and do not tolerate excuses on our part.
This time the feeder contained plenty of sugar water, so what was the problem? We peered through the glass and discovered that another hummingbird was down on the bricks of the patio. Its friend had stopped competing with it for once and was asking us for help.
The little fellow on the ground was not standing; its body lay flat on the bricks, tilted at an unnatural angle. It must be injured. We were able to get close enough to determine that it had no feet. Had one of the cats that prowl the neighborhood made a lucky lunge and caught it by surprise? There was no way of knowing what had happened, but the danger was obvious. How can a bird with no feet survive?
What could we do? We felt helpless; we couldn’t restore its feet. All we could think of was to try and make its remaining hours more comfortable. My wife put a bowl of sugar water nearby so that it could eat.
As the afternoon progressed, we continued to watch the poor bird. After a while it flapped its wings and took to the air. It landed on the top of the wooden fence at the back of our lot. It could still fly, but for how long? And we were amazed that it could land on such a narrow ledge and not fall off. However, neither the patio nor the top of the low fence would protect it against cats and varmints so we were convinced it wouldn’t last the night.
The next day we were surprised to find that our footless flyer was still alive. In fact, it had gained enough strength so that it could feed at the bird feeder. It couldn’t land on a feeder perch so it hovered in midair while it fed, its wings a blur of motion. Then it shot off into the next yard and disappeared.
Footless didn’t land on our patio or fence again. We didn’t know where it landed when it got tired, but it must have found a safe haven. After all, it couldn’t remain in the air all the time, as some avian species are reputed to do. Hummingbirds use enormous amounts of energy when they fly and they have to rest, occasionally.
Hummingbirds may be cute and small, but they are also testy and territorial. Although our feeder has four perches and four holes for sucking up the sweet water, it is traditional that only one bird may feed at a time. A feeding bird is quick to chase others away.
In the weeks that followed, Footless was not only able to take its turn at the feeder, it was often dominant. Between drinks it would hover in the air near the feeder and when another bird stopped for refreshment, Footless would dive-bomb it and chase it away. Footless acted like the alpha leader, in spite of its physical deformities. It had overcome its problems, or maybe its problems had prompted it to try harder.
We left on vacation. The feeder didn’t get filled for weeks at a time. We were far away and didn’t think about the hummingbirds. They had to rely on the nectar of flowers for their food. Could Footless survive in the real world or did it need the artificial environment provided by the bird feeder?
When we returned from vacation we remembered Footless. We filled the hummingbird feeder and kept an eye on it, watching for the courageous little guy. One day we saw Footless, still vibrantly alive, just as feisty as ever. And throughout the winter Footless continued to come to the feeder. Sometimes we wouldn’t see it for days at a time, but then it would reappear, looking as healthy as the other hummingbirds. The only difference between it and the others was that it didn’t light on a perch to feed.
Almost a year has passed since Footless became injured. It is still very much alive and well and living in our neighborhood. It has become a local legend at our hummingbird feeder. We don’t know where it goes to rest, but when it wants to tank up on sugar water it appears at the feeder, often returning again and again in a short period of time.
Footless is an inspiration to us. We only hope that somewhere inside us we have the capacity for the courage that Footless has shown.
