Chance

Well, we had a big spring blizzard this week. Monday we closed the clinic at noon so we could all get home before it really hit. I, like so many others, had to make a stop at the grocery store. I thought this would be a perfect opportunity to cook a nice evening meal and not feel rushed. The store was busy with people making last minute selections, trying to beat the worst of the storm. I left the store, made it home, did my evening chores early and then got busy with the cooking. I was at the kitchen sink and happened to look out the window into the backyard. I noticed a pigeon waddling down the alley dragging a wing. He disappeared behind my big flight cage. I waited for him to reappear but he never did. I thought, "Okay, I have to go check on this guy. I won't be able to sleep unless I do." So I got all bundled up again and went out to look for the pigeon.

I found his tracks in the alley and followed them up into the little area by the garage where I park my jeep. They went around the garbage can, along the wood pile, up into the wood pile and then just disappeared. I looked up into the tree, knowing he most likely wasn't up there; his tracks had not only included foot prints, but also the track of the wing dragging in the snow. He couldn't have flown up into the tree with a broken wing. I happened to look to my left and there he was, sitting in the wood pile all fluffed up and cold and tired looking. I picked him up and took him into the house. I wrapped his broken wing, placed him in a carrier and waited to see if he would eat. At first he just seemed very tired and wasn't really too interested in eating. But by later that night he was eating. So, after 10 to 14 days I will unwrap his wing and put him in a larger carrier to exercise a little bit. Then he will go into the flight cage and will eventually be released.

What I find so interesting is the series of events that took place that led to the discovery of the injured pigeon. What if I had left the grocery store later? What if I hadn't stopped at the store at all? What if I hadn't been at the kitchen sink preparing dinner at that exact moment? And what made the pigeon stop at my house? Why didn't he continue on down the alley? How far had he walked? Is all of this just chance?

So, I named him Chance.

Flyaway

I am reading the most wonderful book. About a month ago I had an email from a wildlife rehabilitator in New York. She had found my name in the NWRA member directory. I don't know how she chose the people she contacted, but I am so happy she chose me. She has written a book and it was released earlier this month. It is titled "Flyaway: How a Wild Bird Rehabber Sought Adventure and Found Her Wings." Reading this book is like reading about my life. So many things she writes about also happen here. I laugh out loud, I cry and I remember so many of the little wild creatures I have been fortunate enough to help.

It is so wonderful when you meet someone so much like yourself. We have begun an email friendship. How curious it is the way some things happen. I don't know how or why she chose me as one of her contacts but maybe our guardian angels knew we would enjoy each other's email company. Perhaps some day down the road the reason our paths crossed will be made known to both of us. Perhaps one day we will actually get to meet each other.

It is so nice to know that mine is not the only home where you may find various food items (like bugs) meant for the birds in your refrigerator, or the frozen rat (another menu item for the birds) thawing in the pan of warm water, or the gull or grebe or other waterfowl spending time in the bathtub. I frequently find myself just shaking my head and saying, "This is my life."

I would recommend this book to anyone who shares a love of the winged creatures. You will be entertained and may come away with a greater appreciation for them and for those who care for them.