Rainy day rescue

On Sunday, September 9, I was out for my usual long run. It was an overcast morning, and just after the mile mark a steady rain started. It was a warm morning, but with the breeze blowing over wet skin, it wouldn't have been very comfortable just to stand around. Just before the 2.5-mile mark, I saw a large bird at the side of the road. I approached and looked down, just to check. To my surprise, the bird was still alive! She was gasping, and there was a spot of blood at the tip of her long beak that was spilling out onto the roadway.

I bent down to look closely. She didn't seem too banged up. I reached down to her and grasped her body with both hands. Her wide feet gripped into my palm. She was scared and fragile, but I thought there might be a chance to save her. There were only two or three houses close enough to knock. So I walked around carrying her to see whether I could get a ride home or use the phone. No one was home anywhere, but under the porch roof of one of the houses, the little bird shook the rain off her head. That gave me hope.

I flagged down a few drivers, and one of them finally let me use their phone to leave a message for Scott to come pick me up. With that, I began walking toward home, cradling the bird's body with one hand and her little head with the other, trying to keep the rain off her head, too. She must have been freezing! Her breathing was labored. It didn't really look good, but even if she died, it would happen in loving hands instead of alone and miserable at the side of the road. Who knows how long she had been there after being hit. But then Scott showed up, flashing his lights.

I got in, and we zipped home. I got the bird into a box with some fleece and a warm piece of cloth; I closed the lid. We called the Cornell University Hospital for Animals, and they referred us to the wildlife clinic. They agreed to meet us there in 30 minutes. We drove through a downpour and arrived. During the ride the bird became a little active. Her labored breathing had slowed considerably. But was that a good thing?

The vet met us there and said that they'd look after her. She was a Yellow-Shaftd Northern Flicker. I am always ever so grateful that the wildlife clinic is so close to us and always available to help. She said that things looked grave but that it was great she survived long enough to get there, and they didn't think they'd need to euthanize right away (often the case with car-hit animals).

The following Friday, I had to take one of my rabbits into the vet. The clinician that day turned out to be the vet from the wildlife clinic! She said that she had put the bird in oxygen, and she was still alive when she left. In a phone call a few days later, she told me that she had made an amazing turnaround and was being given to a rehabber. I got the same news a few days later in a letter from the wildlife clinic.

She survived!!

One more reason to stop and check on those broken bodies by the side of the road. There is something so incredible about having your life intersect with that of another species in this way. I just happened upon her in her time of distress, and she trusted me enough to help her. I will never forget the way she clutched my hand. Later that day I went out to finish my run. I returned to the porch of the first house I had gone to, to retrieve one of her feathers that I had remembered falling there. I saved her life, and she touched mine. A successful rescue just brings such joy, and it was awe-inspiring to be close enough to touch the soft feathers of this beautiful creature.

Stay safe, little flicker.