This morning, my kid found a very young bird (still had some of its baby fluff, couldn't fly) out in the garden. He was on his way to school. I kept an eye on it, and after I got done with my stuff four hours later it was still there.
I made some baby bird food and took it in. It was strong, and I had lots of hope of it surviving.
My kid came home and was thrilled. I sat him down and told him all about baby birds, and how we had to be EXTRA gentle because they are very fragile. And, from how he was acting with it, being very gentle, I allowed him some supervised time with it. I was right there.
Anyway. I put it in a cage and made myself some food. I made the bird, now named McNuggets some food, all was good. We snuggled, watched some TV. Kiddo occasionally popped in to touch it. All is fine.
Second feeding went really well. But I was exhausted. I put him back in the cage, perched him by my head so I could hear him if he got hungry before his next feeding time. Literally a foot from my face.
Its been 2.5 hours. I caught my son in the room at my side with the bird. He would reach in and pet it and leave. He did this twice, but I was damn sure to tell him to leave it alone. Many, many times.
I never dreamed that he would take the cage and take it out.
But he did. He stole the bird in its cage away and took it to another room where he tried to smush it into a slipper and broke its neck. Then he tried to perform CPR on it in his panic (pushing on its tummy) and... Well. Didn't make it better.
I'm so disappointed. Sad.
This is one of those teachable moments I guess. Gotta be gentle when I don't want to fucking be gentle.