The cuckoo bird had placed her egg in a reed warbler’s nest just yesterday, but a tug of maternal longing seized her along with worry that perhaps it wasn’t quite the right size and shape, might not blend in, might not get fed and thrive. She approached the nest while the warbler was fluffing its feathers, trying to shake off the water from a recent storm. And down she dove, snatching up her egg in her talons, and began to fly away.
The warbler flew after her, with talons outstretched to catch the egg, as she feinted left and right, ducking for cover under a bush, shooting up in terror at the smell of a house cat. “I’m coming to get my baby! I’ll bring you down!” the warbler sang.
“But it’s my egg!” the cuckoo bird replied, as a swipe from the reed warbler’s talon almost dislodged it. And look, while you’ve been chasing me, your own nest is unguarded!
The reed warbler flew back to protect the eggs left behind, the cuckoo brought her egg to safety, and the cat went home to eat.
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