We let Sparrow William go today. She (yeah, turns out William’s a lady) had been given a clean bill of health from the vet on Wednesday and the vet said that sparrows are pretty good at re-adapting to life in the wild. So with that info and the good weather forecast over the next few days, it seemed like now was a good time to let the kid go. She didn’t hesitate for too long once the lid was taken off her cage, but I’m pretty sure that she was whicked away a little farther and a little faster than she’d intended by a big gust of wind that let out as soon as she took flight. Of course, I can’t say that seeing that helped me feel any better about cutting off a creature that is still so used to being taken care of by humans.

I came back to check on William after I got off work, about five hours after releasing her, and I could hear her chirping loudly and hungrily in roughly the same place she’d been released. I whistled a few times to let her know I was down there, and waited around for a bit just to watch and see how she was getting on with the other birds. I saw one sparrow chase her away from a spot she’d found on the windowsill of on of the campus buildings, and I listened to her continue to chirp chirp chirp in that way she does when she’s hungry or lonely. After a few minutes, she seemed to catch sight of me, because she flew down straight to me and landed on my arm. I showed her where I’d left some seeds and watched her eat them pretty greedily. She also continued to follow me around, landing on me repeatedly when I would try to put her down and walk away. I know in time she’ll learn to be friends with sparrows and not with people, but that thought doesn’t make me feel any less like I’ve abandoned her. After all, wasn’t the point of saving her as a baby to help her have a good life? Until I start to get the sense that she’s really gained significant independence (ie, she knows I’m there but doesn’t want to follow me around, sit on me, and nibble at my fingers), I’m going to feel bad about tossing her out into a world that I haven’t prepared her to handle. I plan to go back to campus tomorrow and check on her and put seeds down again. I don’t know what it is that I’m hoping to see when I visit tomorrow. Maybe just some kind of sign that she’s less distraught and more eager to spend time with her sparrow friends than her people friends.