Killdeer are plentiful here in southeast Minnesota. Mike was familiar with the breed. They wouldn't eat grain, but instead needed live insects or worms. Mike turned on the garden hose and ran water into the parched soil. No worms appeared. And the bird refused to eat the insects Mike caught for him.
"You probably should have left him on the road," I said.
"I know. But I'm an old softie," Mike admitted.
He persuaded Larry to swallow a few mouthfuls of water. Then Mike prepared a hot water bottle for Larry's box. The bird spent the night in my studio, away from curious cats.
|We went back to the cornfield to retrieve Larry.|
Maybe God’s eye was on the killdeer, after all.