My husband picked it up in a dishcloth and I pressed on its little chest in quick succession to try to resuscitate the little thing. Nothing happened, but then I remembered something my uncle did with a newly hatched chicken when I was a little girl.
We raised chickens for eggs and meat when we could afford it. Each chicken was extremely valuable to us because we were very poor. I was only about 6 and had stepped on one of the chicks by accident. My uncle quickly took the stunned chicken, put it under a bowl, and drummed on the bowl for all he was worth. Looking back, I'm guess the drumming was the perfect imitation of a chick's heart beat, and this may be the reason for what happened next.
When my uncle removed the bowl, the tiny chick stumbled to its feet, shook its little furry head and walked away. I was amazed, naturally. This morning I tried to imitate this sequence of action, so quickly got a bowl and drummed over the little bird. Sadly, it was too late.
It was only as I driving away (late for worship) that I realised my uncle drummed for maybe 4 minutes. My drumming was much shorter. I couldn't help thinking that maybe if I'd done more I could've helped that bird. I don't know why the memory of how long my uncle drummed didn't hit me while I was doing it. I still feel a pang of guilt.
Is there any way to revive a dying bird who's flown into a window? Have you ever been able to save one of these tiny creatures? How did you do it?