Jacko the injured jackdaw, sitting beside the herb garden…
WARNING: You may not want to read this…
It’s SO sad, but we knew he would soon die. I was so tearful at the time that only now can I write this little tribute to the resourceful old jackdaw who came to our garden in July.
My husband first noticed the injured jackdaw that was waddling around the yard and hiding behind plant pots, although at first we thought it was a crow or rook. On one occasion the bird stood behind him as he shooed away the brindled feral cat we feel sure inflicted its injuries.
Brindled cat the bird killer…
From here on in you will blame me for not taking the bird to a vet, but we have no pets so know no vets. Anyway, we rationalised, the vet would surely just put the bird to sleep and we don’t really believe in euthanasia unless the creature is in great pain.
And I am afraid I anthropomorphised Jacko, as we came to call him, having initially just called him “the bird” in order not to become too attached. In my silly head I likened him to Katniss Everdeen in The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins – you may also have read the books or seen the film.
Because Jacko seemed to be a survivor. He had found a safe place to hide at night – up a tree, to avoid those who would kill him…
Jacko on the fence, near the conifer he crept into at night…
Jacko at bedtime, before disappearing into the tree – there was a gentle rain that evening…
Jacko never made a sound. He (if indeed he was male) occasionally seemed to sigh and I sensed a sadness that none of his friends and relatives came to visit him. Until now we had never seen a jackdaw in the garden, although we often hear and see them in streets 100 yards away.
Jackdaws (Corvus monedula) are small members of the crow family, so quite intelligent as birds go. They are easily recognised by their silvery heads and pale blue eyes.
Sad Jacko…
With his damaged wings hanging down, Jacko reminded me of a lecturer in a black gown, or perhaps a judge, or maybe even Laurence Olivier or Antony Sher as a hunchbacked Richard III.
Laurence Olivier as Richard III, 1955…
…Antony Sher as Richard III, 1984
Jacko moved around quite well, considering…
There were hopeful signs. Jacko ate heartily of bird peanut-suet block I crumbled on to the wall for him.
Jacko eating
But there was one time when I found him sheltering on some steps with his head under his wing, as if he was giving up. I could touch him and he didn’t move. It wouldn’t be long now…
Then he rallied, so it was a surprise when his demise finally came, after he had been with us for about six days.
It was evening as I stood at the kitchen sink. I looked up and saw him through the window, bold as brass, standing in a most exposed place on the neighbour’s fence. Noooooo! What are you DOING? I later made up a story that he had just had enough and was holding his head high and saying OK cat, come and finish off what you began… and the cat needed no invitation.
The fence – glimpsed between trees…
I looked away. I looked back. He wasn’t there. I looked again. The brindled cat was there in the very spot on the fence where Jacko had been standing.
Next morning, after a miserable night’s sleep, I headed up into the wooded part of the garden to see if I could confirm the worst. I never got there. Near the bottom of the steps the cat had left Jacko’s poor dead body, eyes open and sightless. My tears welled up. They still do.
I laid Jacko to rest beneath the hydrangea…
The hydrangea
I’m sorry that I felt I needed to share this with you. I don’t know if a vet could have or would have saved him.
By the way, these events happened around the time I was writing the blog post Never can say goodbye…
The Squirrelbasket 
Poor old thing. I’m sure he appreciated your food and protection in his final days.
Thank you for your words of consolation.
All the best 🙂
Always hard when you bond with an animal and lose them. If it happens again it’s worth ringing the RSPB or BTO- they have local groups who can help. Most vets don’t do much treatment for wild animals and would only ring the specialists themselves.
Thanks for that – very useful. I must make a note of their numbers for future emergencies. Although I hope there won’t be any!
All the best 🙂
Poor old Jacko, such a lovely post. It’s impossible not to get attached to animals, especially ones that you’re actively looking out for. You did all you could. I’d have done the same. Corvid are known for being more intelligent than the average bird, and a lot more sociable, I’m sure he did actually miss his mates, poor love. Love your blog posts. xx
Oh dear, thank you for that, although your kind words are making me feel tearful again!
Love your blog, too 🙂
Oh dear, what a sad tale. Poor Jacko. I haven’t seen a jackdaw for years. When I was young I had a friend with a pet one he had reared, he was such a character.
I know cat lovers are very sentimental about their pets but I just see them as ruthless killers. The RSPB estimate that cats kill around 55 million birds a year in the UK. How do the people who are dotty about cats deal with that I wonder?
Thank you for your interesting comments. How wonderful that would be, to have a pet jackdaw!
I know what you mean about cats, although I don’t want to lose any cat-loving friends I may have!
I must put in a good word for our neighbour’s fat white cat, which is too unfit to chase birds, thank goodness, but does often see off rival cats on her territory (if female cats are allowed to have “territory”).
Best wishes 🙂
Oh Pat – what a sad tale – perhaps it was for the best that the cat took him in the end – he probably wouldn’t have lasted long anyway – funny how we get attached to these creatures.
Thanks for those words of consolation. Yes, I think his injuries went further than just the damaged wings and at least he did’t just fade away into pain.
Best wishes 🙂
We deal with it, by rescuing birds when we can. I’m currently concerned that the entire flock of 20 or 30 red bishops, who used to come to our bird feeders, have vanished. That’s not our cat, that is a destroyed nesting site, captured for the pet trade, some IDIOT with a catapult??? I’m sad when I see road kill owls or hawks.
We still have the little sparrow we rescued. His wings damaged by birth defects – but he lives with company from the wild flock in our garden.
I expect you have a lot more birds than we do in the first place, so more mishaps to deal with!
I had to look up the red bishop bird – pretty little thing. So you mean the birds themselves were kidnapped to be sold as pets? How awful.
Happy, though, to hear about the little sparrow.
Best wishes 🙂
Pat, what a lovely thing you did. I don’t know about a vet either but you gave Jacko lots of care and love and a burial. You will think of him often too so keep him alive that way. x
Oh dear, getting weepy now!
He had such lovely blue-grey eyes…
Best wishes 🙂
You’ve written a fine tribute to Jacko and it’s nice of you to honor him this way.
Thank you – and that’s an interesting blog you have there! I am now following.
Best wishes 🙂
A soulful but not overly-sentimental account of the final days of a characterful bird. He couldn’t have asked for more and what a lovely resting place- the blue in the centre of the hydrangea flowers will always remind you of his eyes! Best wishes.
Thank you for that. And you got my point exactly! About the blue in the hydrangea! Without my saying…
Spooky.
Best wishes 🙂