I live near a small zoo. All of the animals, birds and reptiles who live there are native species who were once injured, have gone through rehabilitation, and ended up with a permanent disability which prevented their return to the wild. Local people who unexpectedly end up with injured wildlife in their cars tend to beeline for the zoo; especially if they have no cell phone.

Last summer a man arrived there with an injured Red-tailed Hawk in his car. As it turned out, the man was driving down a local road and saw the hawk standing on the center line. He stopped his truck, rolled down the window and asked the bird if it needed assistance, but it did not respond. He pulled to the side, climbed out and approached it, expecting it to fly away. It stayed still. So, he picked it up. Evidently, it was not amused.

The man arrived at the zoo with bloody puncture wounds up and down both arms. Now, I have been “footed,” as they say, by a large hawk who managed to breach my leather falconry glove, and – even through the glove – I can attest that I have experienced few things as painful. Puncture wounds require a current tetanus shot, and I was overdue. “What happened?” the hospital doctor had queried, because, naturally, it was a Sunday. “A hawk got me,” I replied. “Why would you go near a hawk?” he asked, deadpan.

Indeed.

None of the wildlife staff were at the gate when the man arrived with the hawk, so he gave it to a groundskeeper, who pushed it into a box with a stick. “That bird really got me good,” said the man to the groundskeeper. “But I couldn’t leave him there in the middle of the road.”

The groundskeeper didn’t know that wildlife rehabilitators must always obtain the finder’s name, address and telephone number. This is both for our State and Federal paperwork, and just in case we need to contact the finder. I arrived to pick the hawk up, listened to the story, and realized I had no way of getting in touch with this man. And I wanted to so badly.

The hawk had been hit by a car and had head trauma as well as scrapes and bruises, but recovered completely and was eventually released. I wanted his rescuer to see him go. I wanted to say, thank you so much for putting yourself in harm’s way, for saving the life of this beautiful bird. I wanted to say, you are a testament to the best of humanity, and I am in awe of your compassion.

I also wanted to say, listen, Rambo, you better go get yourself a tetanus shot.

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Written by Suzie
Suzie Gilbert is a licensed wild bird rehabilitator whose shameful secret is that on one occasion (well … maybe more than one) she has received a little brown job, or a fledgling whatever, and has been completely unable to ID it. Luckily, she has birder friends who will rush to her aid, although she must then suffer their mockery. She runs Flyaway, Inc. out of her home, and has been caring for injured and orphaned wild birds for 20 years. Why go birding when you can just stroll through the house? Honestly, though, she is wildly envious of birders and their trips to exotic locales. She is the author of Flyaway, her bird-rehabbing memoir, and Hawk Hill, a children's book, and is the sole parent of two teenagers. Never a dull moment.