A Swift Exit

     There is a short season every year where we get birds handed in that people have found on the ground. For most fledglings it’s normal to leave the nest a couple of days before they can actually fly, but not swallows, swifts or house martins. They will sometimes accidentally find themselves on the ground and not be able to get airborne again, particularly the swifts. These amazing feathered arrowheads nest in the eaves of houses mostly, so to start flying they use a bit of gravity from two stories up. That option isn’t available when you find yourself on somebody’s driveway. 

     I particularly enjoy getting a chance to see them up close rather than overhead at nearly 70mph. Not only that, I can fix most of them by dropping them out of an upstairs window- now that’s my kind of medicine!

     One day I was checking over a swift that a client had brought down, stretching out its wings to look for breaks or scuffs, checking the flight feathers were intact, when suddenly I saw a massive spider like insect dart across the skin under the feathers.

     Now I’m not notably jumpy, but it was everything I could do not to slam dunk the bird on the floor and run away screaming. This was the stuff of horror films. A large, very fast biting beastie millimeters from my fingers.

     I returned the swift to a quiet kennel, trying all the time not to scratch, and went to look up what this could be. 

     I discovered that swifts have a type of flat fly that is similar to a louse, but bigger and faster. It doesn’t touch humans, so I had nothing to fear, although when it is running at you it’s pretty scary. Crataerina pallida does not have many friends. Birds are usually infected in their parents nest, and will then carry the parasites for life; they are too quick to be caught and killed. They can literally suck a young swift to death, which may be the reason our bird had ended up on the ground in the first place. I steeled myself – it had to be done.

Crataerina pallida - very fast, very horrible. Tiny wings. 

     I got a pair of curved artery forceps and a latex glove. Wearing the glove on my left hand and brandishing my weapon in my right, I picked up the wee bird and started the hunt. I caught sight of the beastie but it shimmied away at lightening speed and hid under the wing. But I was determined – the bugs had to go. I managed to swoop in just as it was away to climb round onto the swift’s back, and caught it by one leg. It was enough to dislodge it and dispatch the parasite. I went back in for more. I took three in total off this tiny sleek bird, and felt quite triumphant. It was window time.

     One of the nurses stood in the car park with a washing basket, ready to receive in case it still wasn’t able to fly. They were not very convinced by my assertion that all we had to do now was chuck it out the window. Nevertheless, they trusted me enough to let my try it. Or maybe they just trusted their own catching skills.
     With a shout of one, two….three! I launched the wee guy out of the second story window. For a sickening moment he tumbled towards the tarmac, then righted himself, swooped low to the ground, built up some speed and lifted himself, disappearing over the roof of the neighbour’s house like a pocket rocket. The nurse gave an audible “ooh!”. 

Satisfied with a happy resolution, we wandered off towards the kettle, another case cured.

House Martin just before curing by window.