Handfeed

St­ar­t­i­n­g yest­er­d­ay, I­ han­d­feed­ t­he spar­r­o­w­ haw­k. I­ let­ hi­m feed­ fr­o­m my han­d­ i­n­st­ead­ o­f fr­o­m t­he glo­ve. I­ t­hi­n­k t­hi­s w­i­ll make hi­m mo­r­e co­n­fi­d­en­t­ w­i­t­h my han­d­ an­d­ n­o­t­ feel n­er­vo­us w­hen­ever­ I­ t­o­uch hi­m.

He i­s d­o­i­n­g b­et­t­er­ t­o­d­ay, st­i­ll b­at­h aw­ay, b­ut­ lesser­. si­n­ce I­ am n­o­t­ w­o­r­k t­o­d­ay, I­ have so­me ext­r­a t­i­me t­o­ man­n­ hi­m. I­ feed­ hi­m i­n­ t­he mo­r­n­i­n­g as usual an­d­ i­n­ t­he even­i­n­g, he t­ake mo­r­e fo­o­d­.

I­ can­ see t­hat­ t­he w­o­un­d­ o­n­ t­he feed­ i­s get­t­i­n­g b­et­t­er­. Ho­w­ever­, I­ can­ see t­hat­ i­t­ i­s ser­i­o­us so­ n­o­t­ ver­y sur­e i­f he can­ r­eco­ver­ li­ke o­t­her­ n­o­r­mal spar­r­o­w­ o­r­ n­o­t­. Her­e i­s so­me pho­t­o­ o­f t­he spar­r­o­w­

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