This morning, as J and I were coming home from breakfast, he said: "It's still alive; it's legs are moving." about the crow that I had barely noticed as we were driving past.
Could I just drive home and leave this animal in agony on the side of the road where someone left it after having had hit it with the car. I cannot imagine how ANYONE could do something like that! I don't care where I am headed, I would stop and do anything I could. If left at the curb, it would be prey to other animals, or die of dehydration, at the very least, in a couple of days.
In this instance, I wrapped the crow, who was struggling slightly while on its back, with some napkins and turn it over. It just sat there, blinking, watching me. It's beak was broken and there was a bit of blood in its mouth. How do you FIX that? I called animal control who was going to send someone out. J got a box from the car, I placed the crow in the box and drove the 1/4 mile home.
What was I doing? I hate crows! They are so annoying and loud; they are nuisance birds. But, looking at its eyes, thinking it must be in terrible pain and frightened.
...anyway, an officer came to my house. He said they would euthanize it since there was no one to take care of it. I said that I would take care of it, if someone could set its beak; he said vets wouldn't since they are classified as "nuisance wildlife". I had rubber gloves near the door (for working with glue and drywall), so held the crow gently, while the officer injected it with a tranquilizer.
It was pretty rough at the very end. But, again, it was the right thing to do for the animal.
No, I cannot save everything/everyone, as I have been told, but I would love to, some day, have some sort of ranch/farm where I do make a difference to some. "Be the change you want to see in the world" -Ghandi ...I cannot agree more.
1 comment:
I am the worst of all wildlife killers. Besides childhood's frequent cockroach-smashing sprees, I have also accidentally stepped on...a baby bird. Oh, the horror! It had fallen out of its nest tucked into the gutter of Neal's house onto the back porch. I took a step outside, Neal started to say something, closed his eyes and went back inside. He emerged with a damp paper towel and asked me to lift my right foot but not to look. I obeyed, thankfully, and avoided the sight of the featherless creature stuck to the bottom of my shoe. I suppose it was a more quick and merciful end to its life than that of starvation/dehydration or becoming lunch for one of the neighborhood cats, but I still feel guilty to this day.
Post a Comment