The Strange Squab

Laura Hirschfield, Illustrated by Adam Herrington

At the tippy, tippy top of a tall, tall building, a nest perched upon a ledge. When the wind blew, the nest teetered. When the rain fell, the nest drooped. But when the sun shined, the nest shimmered like a bowl of rainbow jello in the sky. Just as she was singing her song, a tiny beak poked her feathery bottom! Mama Donna fluttered up with delight as another, and then another beak poked out of its shell. “My cute little squabies! How happy I am to see you,” Mama Donna cooed, and she began to sing them a song: Happy bird day to you, happy bird day to you, happy bird day dear… DEAR MEEEE! Just as she was singing her song, an unopened egg rolled right onto her feet! Mama Donna squinted her eyes. “Pigeons don’t have more than three eggs,” she said to herself. Mama Donna shook her feathers. “Pigeon eggs aren’t square!” Mama Donna huffed. “Whatever could this be?” she asked, much louder than she realized. A squirrel heard the question and scurried over for a look. “Maybe it’s a nut,” the squirrel said. “I’d be happy to take a bite!” A crow on a nearby wire heard the chatter and said, “Maybe it’s a meatball. I’d be happy to take a bite!” A cat peered over and said, “Maybe it’s a chunk of cheese. I’d be happy to take a bite!” Mama Donna hissed at the nosy neighbors, pulled her squabs under her wings, and wriggled her rump over the strange egg. She would sing until it hatched. Now why was this egg not like the rest? Momma and the squabs were confused. They sang and they sang and they sang all the songs they knew until the sun was replaced by the moon. Then, just before dawn, Mama Donna woke with a jump. A tiny beak was poking her bottom! As the little baby cracked out of its shell, Mama Donna and the squabs began to sing: Happy bird day to us, Happy bird day to us, Happy bird day dear …DEAR US!! Just as they were singing their song, the newest squab BARKED! The nest began to teeter. It began to totter. “HUSH!!” Mama Donna yelled. “Everyone stay still lest our nest tumble down!!” The screechy squabs, who’d never heard their mother yell, froze that instant, as if suddenly turned to ice. “Squeak!” screeched the first squab. “Tweet!” squealed the second. “Who are you?!?” peeped the third.