The other morning, we had the very unusual experience of waking up to find that overnight we'd gone from two baby guineas to three! While this sounds like it's going to be a happy story, I'll go ahead and warn you that it's not. The reappeared third keet was obviously weak and lagging behind its siblings. By mid-afternoon, I found the baby over by the chicken pen sprawled out on it's side, eyes closed, looking quite dead. When I picked it up, however, I noticed that it was still breathing. I assumed I would be holding it for its final few breaths, but 15 minutes later, it was still breathing. So, I switched from hospice mode into intensive care mode. I have absolutely no idea how to care for a baby bird, but for a while it looked like I might be doing some good. I brought the baby inside, gave it a warm, safe place to recover some strength and attempted to get some fluids into it every so often. Within a couple of hours it was up and frantically trying to get out of its dishpan prison. It could hear the other guineas outside and was quite desperate to rejoin them. I took it back outside and set it in the yard near Silver and the other two babies. For a moment, there was a joyful reunion, but when Silver started to wander off it became obvious that my little patient was not going to be able to keep up. Silver kept looking back over her shoulder, but she seemed to have realized it was a lost cause and was moving on. At this point, the baby seemed to give up as well. It was still alive at bedtime, but it did not make it through the night. So, we are back to two babies. Here are a couple of photos of the forlorn little baby. You can really see what I mean about them having bright orange feet!

Are you my mother?