Did I forget this exists again? I did. It’s funny that I think little stories in my head all day long but it never occurs to me I should probably write them down in that website I own that is my whole-ass name. It’s different writing here than on other social media because I have no way of knowing who reads these (unless they comment) and I think that’s part of the thrill.
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Saturday afternoon I found an injured Canadian goose while walking on Monroe Ave, sitting by herself on the front lawn of an ugly office building. I didn’t realize she was injured at first and thought it was strange that she was sitting alone and not moving. I kept on my merry way, thinking about her the whole time.
On my way back through I stopped at a dollar store and bought a bottled water and a plastic bowl. You shouldn’t feed injured dehydrated animals because it can kill them but you CAN offer them water. I found her again in the exact same spot, head tucked gently back in her wing. I approached cautiously with a bowl of water and that’s when she stood up and scuttled away from me, and I could see then that her wing was very badly broken. My throat closed up, because that wing is a death sentence. I did not know what to do at that point, I was on foot and had no way of taking her so I left the bowl of water and walked the rest of the way home crying as silently as I could. “I’m no hero, I can’t do anything.” I cruelly thought to myself.
I thought of nothing else the rest of that evening. I laid upstairs reading my dumb little book in bed. I felt wracked with guilt that the universe had presented me with a critter in need and I turned away. The following day (Sunday) I researched online and found the number of the local wildlife rehab center. They did not have the ability to go get the goose so they told me how I could get her myself. I drove this time, back out to the ugly office park with a large blanket, a box, and my husband in tow.
She was still there, she’d survived the cold night and was sitting some yards away from the original spot, nestled in the shade of a pine tree. I approached with the blanket to throw over top of her to get her into the box. What followed was about 5 minutes of Benny Hill music and my husband and I with a blanket and box respectively, chasing her around the lawn. I eventually got her and put her in the box as gently as I could to try to not damage the wing further. She let out the gentlest, weakest little “honk” and I wanted to die. This sweet little baby. This barely-evolved dinosaur. Naturally, I developed an emotional attachment.
We drove out to the westside church parking lot where were meeting the wildlife rehab lady to do the handover. I stood in the parking lot waiting, opening up the Goose Box to make sure she was okay. I think the chase had taken all the energy she had left and she was snoozing wrapped up in a big green fleece blanket. The lady arrived and I filled out the intake form and handed her the hefty box (“Oh, this IS a goose”). I asked if I could get an update at any point. She said I could text, so that was that and I left, thinking JUST MAYBE she would make it. I knew, deep down, that there was very little chance of a wild bird with a break like that ever being able to return to the wild and most likely would require euthanasia, but I allowed myself the forbidden treat of Hope. What if she DID make it and I ended up volunteering at the rehab and got to help in her recovery and she ended up becoming a permanent resident animal ambassador and I would feed her little corns from my hand?? Could this timeline be so tender???
The next morning I sat at my dining room table Typing Emails and Clicking Buttons and various other things related to my job (I work from home most days) waiting for an appropriate time to contact the rehab to see how it went. I tried to prepare myself for any outcome, but you know how Hope is. Once the idea is in there that’s a bell that cannot be un-rung.
10:03 am
Good morning! I don’t mean to be a bother but I just wanted to see how the goose I dropped off yesterday is doing if there’s any update?
10:07am
That’s ok, you’re not bothering us. The wing had a compound break and it was bleeding pretty bad upon examination. Due to the severity of the injury, we did humanely euthanize it. Thank you so much for boxing it and bringing it in.
10:07am
Ok. Thank you for your time and the work you do.
……
The mistake I made here was that I had just painted my nails and trying to blow your nose with wet nails is an impossible task. I sobbed big and loud into my empty house, knowing that she went in a way that was MUCH kinder than starving to death under a bush in front of that hideous office building (or worse). I did the thing everyone does when faced with any kind of tragedy – you try to find a way to blame yourself so that you can have some sense of control over the matter. What if I had gone back Saturday and gotten her then instead of waiting overnight? Would she have made it then? Does it matter now? Who knows.
I sat and watched my nails dry, a soft happy green. Perfect for these transitional season days. Next time, I won’t wait overnight. I will drive my ass straight back.
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