And Then There Are Stories Like This! (9/21/08)

It started like any other Sunday morning at the Raptor Clinic. About 9:30, while in the middle of taking care of the birds we currently have, the phone in the clinic rang. That’s WR&R’s line, and whenever it rings, it is someone calling about a songbird that needs rescuing, or mammal, or raptor. The answering service picks it up, but whenever it rings, we all assume that deer-in-the-headlights position, look at each other, and say "uh oh." Since I’m on call on Sundays, if my cell phone doesn't ring after a few minutes (which would be the answering service calling me), we know it wasn't a raptor call and we can all breathe a sigh of relief. Well, this morning, we weren't so lucky. My cell rang a few minutes later with a report that a woman had an injured vulture. I took the number and called the woman, who said her dog and a neighbor's dog, had a turkey vulture on the ground the previous afternoon and she thought it was injured because it couldn't fly; possibly with an injured wing and/or injured leg.

Somehow, they had gotten the bird into their rabbit hutch (separate from the rabbit!) where it stayed the night. I told her we'd be there in a couple of hours when we were done at the clinic. Finishing up about 11:00, Mark Roberts and I loaded a large pet carrier, as well as the necessary accoutrements (gloves, towel, paperwork, brochures) into my car and headed out. We discussed possible scenarios on the way -- if it had a broken wing, that's not good for a bird that relies almost exclusively on using its wings to survive. We both thought this would probably not be a good outcome and thought that we'd probably end up taking it back to the clinic and having to euthanize it.

We drove out toward the “Y” where Brunswick and 174 meet. We turned on one road, then another, the roads getting smaller and smaller, and we finally came to the very end of a small dirt road. As we parked, a man came out of the house followed by 1... 2... 3... 4 small boys between the ages of 6 and 8, and then the woman, Sylvia, who I had spoken with on the phone. All barefoot (the boys, not the man, whose name was Craig), the kids were the ones who had found it the day before, so we asked them for the story. Of course, they all started talking at once very animatedly and very excitedly to say who first saw it, what they thought it was at the time, etc. We finally pieced together that they had been out playing by the pond and noticed that the dogs had something on the ground -- one of them first thought it was a mountain lion (little boys' imagination being what it is, I'm surprised they didn't think it was a grizzly bear)...

Anyway, they realized it was a large bird and very responsibly got the dogs away from it. One of the little boys even took off his shirt and threw it over the bird, which of course immediately calms the bird and stops it from moving. We were very impressed when we heard this part. Enter Craig and Sylvia, who somehow managed to get the bird back to the house and into their rabbit hutch. So, we went over to the rabbit hutch to check the bird out. Mark opened the cage door and sat down on the ground, immediately sitting in the little water dish that the people had left in there for the bird. The bird was very quiet until Mark reached into the cardboard box it was hiding in, and when he pulled this very active bird out, we both said at the same time, "it's just a baby!" It had fuzzy grey feathers on top of its head instead of the bare, red head of an adult, although he did have adult plumage.

We checked him out, his wings seemed fine, his legs were fine, and he was even doing what vultures do when they feel threatened, which is to vomit whatever they have in their stomachs (we don't EVEN want to go there!). Luckily Mark was holding him... We felt his keel (chest) and were pleased to discover that he was not at all thin, he seemed in good body weight, so we deduced that he just fell or jumped out of the nest (as young birds do when they are learning to fly) and couldn't get up into a tree fast enough to get away from the dogs.

We wanted to see where he was found, to see if we could locate the nest, so we put him in the carrier we had brought and left him in the shade while we all trooped down to the pond. We hoped that we could either find the nest, or at the very least, get him back into a tree and off the ground away from predators. The boys eagerly lead us down a little path that wound through a tangled forest of pines, oaks, shrubs, and blackberry bushes to a hidden and beautiful good-sized pond. Along the way, I asked "How did you get our number?" and one of the little boys replied "My Grandma is with Wildlife Rescue." I said "Really? What's her name?” “Kim,” was the reply. Mark and I both said “Kim Franza”?? Kim is one of the directors and team leaders of the Raptor Center! So here were two of her grandsons at these people's house – it turns out they are classmates of the two boys that live there and had a sleep-over the night before. Small world, and small town!

We found "white-washed" bushes (evidence of large birds roosting overhead) so we knew we were in the right vicinity, not to mention that there were vultures flying overhead the whole time. It was obvious that if the bird was on the ground in this forest, there's no way he'd be able to get enough lift to fly, because it was so thick with vegetation. Since vultures are large birds and have such a large wing span, they need a little bit of a runway (like a plane does) in order to get airborne.

Mark and I discussed whether we should take the bird back to the clinic, or just release it nearby. We couldn't release it back into the forest where it was found because of the vegetation, though, especially with dogs and coyotes (which the people also said were around) running around loose. The boys said there was a large open field not far away, so we thought "perfect!" If we could launch him there and he could fly, that would be great. Otherwise, if he couldn't fly, we'd just pick him up and take him back to the clinic’s flight cage until he could, then bring him back and release him there. Knowing that every day at the clinic is not a good day for a wild bird, we really didn't want to do that unless we had no choice, especially since he was in such good shape.

Craig said we could drive to the field they were talking about, so we went back to the house and loaded the bird (in the carrier), Craig and Mark into my Toyota Corolla. Suddenly two of the boys come charging out of the forest, breathless and wild-eyed, saying they just saw two coyotes in the field and there were "a thousand vultures in the trees!" all around the field. So, we headed out a little dirt road that wound through the forest we’d just walked through. The boys and the woman met us there (the boys had dashed back into the forest after relating this news to us) and, although we did not find exactly 1,000 vultures, we did find at least 20 or more of the birds festooned in the surrounding trees, with more flying overhead, and a large open field. PERFECT SPOT! Mark got the bird out, let him get his bearings for a minute, and launched him into the air above the field. He took off flying low, then flew past the trees where we saw him continue to gain altitude, higher and higher, putting as much distance as he could between himself and these strange beings that had held him in captivity. It was awesome! What a wonderful rescue and release, all within about 45 minutes! We all high-fived and hugged each other, and everyone was all smiles and full of thank yous. The boys would have quite a story to tell their classmates the next day. As we were leaving, Mark overheard one of the boys say "This is the best sleep-over I've ever had!"

We were elated that we didn't have to take it back and put it down. Or even take it back at all. It was the absolute best scenario bird rescue kind of a day!