Take Bumble bees for example.
This morning we found a red-tailed bumble bee laying in the cat’s biscuit bowl, with its little legs drawn up and wings flat – unmoving.
We assumed it was dead and Peter shook it outside the window. But as it landed on the bench seat under the sill it rolled over and waved two of its legs at us.
I could not help feeling I’d just had an apidaic (?) fist shaken at me for being a total git in dumping it out on the path. I raced outside to see if it was recovering. At the back of my mind I recalled reading a piece on vague-book about resuscitating exhausted or dehydrated bees, and a quick web search found this link from the RSPB which confirmed my suspicions.
Dissolving a tiny amount of honey in water I dashed back outside and poured the sticky mixture onto the bench seat just a millimetre from the bee’s head.
Again the tiny creature reacted with a feeble waving of a leg. Whether is defence or irritation, or both, I don’t know but at least it told me the bee was still alive.
I crouched there watching it for a few minutes, but as it seemed not to be making any attempt to drink/eat the offering I retreated back indoors. Apart from getting cold I was gaining some very odd looks from the school crossing keeper out on the street. It would seem that kneeling on the front path in my dressing gown at 8.30 in the morning staring at the concrete is apparently something to be questioned.
Showered and dressed I went back out some half hour later and my little casualty was gone – presumably recovered and flown away. My good deed for the day.