Walk Softly – Show Me Your Baby Blues!

by Geoffrey Carpentier

A few weeks ago, something strange happened. I felt a soft bump against the base of my back. Carefully, I reached back to see if it was something unwelcome. To my surprise it was a very small Blue Jay. It clung there for a few seconds, then weakly flew up to my shoulder and simply sat there, while I talked to my neighbour. To say this was distracting would be an understatement!

I wasn’t sure where this little guy (or gal) came from, but I suspected it was from a nest the jays had built in our yard, earlier in the year. Boy was I wrong! My neighbour, who is a wonderful young man and who cares deeply for all forms of wildlife, had rescued the bird after a cat took its mother and siblings from its nest, in Uxbridge. He had reared it for a while and tried in vain to teach it how to be a Blue Jay, but it would have none of that. Instead, daily, it would come to our deck, looking for us, and would eat small bits of grapes from our hands. We knew we couldn’t do this forever and the bird would certainly have to learn to forage for itself, but for now, it was fun and entertaining.

To our surprise, it quickly learned to catch and subdue ants, small wasps and other pollinators, earwigs and more. The innate ability to figure out how to catch a flying or scurrying insect was quite impressive to watch. Even more impressive was, watching it kill a stinging insect without itself being stung! We also watched as it experimented with everything it saw, to see if it was tasty and edible – picking up bits of food, debris and inanimate objects and rejecting the non-food items with some pizazz. He/she has now been with us for a month, and it still comes daily to see if the grape-fest is still on. Then it disappears for much of the day, showing up periodically to help with chores, such as cleaning the garage – well, actually it doesn’t help but it does come to see what I’m doing and hangs around, inspecting things for an hour or so, before going back to being a wild bird.

It still doesn’t know it’s a Blue Jay, but its voice is changing from a tiny squeaky noise it makes, to a chuckling series of very un-jay-like sounds. Only now does it make a noise, occasionally, which sounds anything like a jay. I'm not sure when or how this story will end, but we hope “Bluey” stays in our lives for the foreseeable future, at least.

Let’s take a step back and explore the lives of Bue Jays in the wild.

The nesting season kicks off in mid-April, with noisy and lively courtship displays. Once a pair bonds (usually for life) they build their nest together, typically choosing a tree fork 2.5 to 10 meters off the ground. The male brings live twigs to the nest site, where the female weaves the bulky, mud-encased outer cup and lines it with a soft bed of rootlets.

Many dummy or ‘practice’ nests may be built before the final product is completed. By May, the female lays a clutch of 3 to 7 speckled, greenish-blue eggs. She handles the incubation entirely on her own, for roughly 17 days. During this time, she rarely leaves the nest, relying completely on the male to bring her food. Once the featherless chicks hatch, the parents become incredibly quiet and secretive, to hide from predators, though they will aggressively dive-bomb any intruders who get too close. The chicks grow rapidly, fledging just 17 to 21 days after hatching, but they will stay close to their parents for a few more months, to learn the ropes of foraging.

We know our little jay was found about half grown, on July 29th, when he/she was about 10 days old, so now, at 1.5 months old, it should be with Mom and Dad learning how to forage, but for now we are its foster parents. What a blessing to have “Bluey” in our lives!

Geoff Carpentier is a published author, expedition guide and environmental consultant. Visit Geoff on-line on LinkedIn and Facebook.