From the Ashes

When I first saw her, I thought she was dead. Lying on her side on a blanket in the box, her eyes were closed, legs out stiff. When I reached in and felt her, she barely moved.

Assuring Jolene, who had rescued her, that I would do everything in my power to save this beautiful red-tailed hawk, I raced to the clinic. There, Mike Furtado met me and, despite having his dinner interrupted (as had I), the two of us quickly began our examination. From initially looking at her, there appeared to be no immediate injury, other than the fact that she continued to lie on the table motionless, not opening her eyes.

She had been found standing on the double yellow line in the middle of a busy 4-lane road in Chico. She had obviously been hit and was stunned as cars and trucks raced within inches of her, the wind from their tires buffeting her as she tried to stand up. Her guardian angel was certainly on her shoulder that day, as Jolene saw her as she drove by, turned around and stopped, then raced through a break in the traffic to save her. We gently lifted her right wing and I was horrified to see two large open raw wounds on her side. I’d never seen such a grievous injury on a bird. Mike asked “have you ever sewed up a bird before?” I said no, and he said “well, you will now.”

We first hydrated her and gave her injections for both pain and to fight infection. Numbing the wounds, we began cleaning and preparing them for suturing. He and I bent over the bird, intent on what we needed to do. We both had a hemostat in each hand and worked as a team. He would insert the needle, I would get a hold of it and pull it through, he would then take it back and make a loop, I’d finish the loop and we’d go to the next stitch. Considering I’d never done anything like that before, I was proud of myself for putting aside my intense emotional sympathetic feelings for this beautiful bird, and just concentrated on doing the best job I could.

During our ministrations, she just lay there, eyes closed, except for once when she summoned one short burst of energy and stood up, shaky but defiant, wings out, glaring at us. But it took too much out of her and she sank back down again. The rest of the time we worked on her, she continued to lie there, motionless, eyes closed, breathing slowly (something you don’t ever want to see in a wild bird).

We finally finished and, bandaging and wrapping her, gently put her back in the box she had arrived in. I left to go meet Laurel and Eric, who would take over her intensive care at their house. It was dark by then and I looked at the clock as I drove away from the clinic. I couldn’t believe it had been two hours since I had brought her in.

I met Laurel and Eric in the Kmart parking lot (isn’t that where all “bird deals” are done?). They were expecting a hawk on the verge of death, and they got one. I told them not to be surprised if she didn’t make it through the night. I was amazed she had even made it through our “surgery.”

Every time I woke up during that night, she was the first thing I thought of. The next morning, I tried to concentrate on work, but just couldn’t get her out of my mind. Finally, an email came through from Laurel – the hawk was still with us! I knew she was in the best of care, as they seem to do wonders with the really dire cases. We had been told early on in our rehabbing that if a bird makes it the first three days, they have a good chance of surviving. She had two more days to go.

The next afternoon, I went over to Laurel’s after work to see her for myself, and held her as Laurel hand-fed her. She was alert, eyes open, and looked like a different bird, other than the purple “vet wrap” we had wrapped her body and one wing with. She had been taken to Dr. Susan Klopfer the previous day, who said Mike and I had done an excellent job sewing her up. Laurel confided in me that she had slept in their guest room Sunday night, with the bird in the box by the bed, so that if the bird struggled in the night (which she had), Laurel was instantly awake to make sure she was OK.
I breathed easier as each day went by. I was given daily updates on her recovery by Laurel. She became stronger as she remained on antibiotics and pain medication, and she was eating well. Her wounds continued to heal quickly and perfectly, and within only a few days the bandage and wrap was off. She was treated for internal parasites that she had come to us with, and was soon moved to a large outside cage at Laurel and Eric’s, where she thrived, feeding on live mice that were put in her cage every day.
Then came the day of her release. The family who had rescued her had turned out to watch.
I blessed her and held her out. She looked around...
...finally flew,
...and, like the phoenix, had risen from the ashes of near-death, to life and freedom once again. I turned and watched her soaring, the wind once again under her wings.