By William Leroy
A true account of a raptor’s injury, rescue, rehabilitation, and release.
This is a story about the writers first close encounter with an injured bird of prey, whom we later
Logan
named Logan. Logan is a great horned owl that the writer found injured by the Verde River while out exploring in his jeep over twelve years ago. In a way it’s also a story about the writer, because if it was not for Logan, he would have never met Sam and Bob at Wild At Heart, or ever experienced the true joy that came from becoming a Wild At Heart Volunteer. Logan’s story is told in Logan’s his own words.
This story will be presented in two parts in The Peak magazine, the second of which will appear in the May-June issue of The Peak. This is the complete un-abridged version.
PART One. Injury, Rescue, Rehabilitation
I had been hunting all night with my mate in the old hunting grounds near the laughing waters (known as Verde River by the humans). It had been a good night and we sang joyfully in the early twilight hours as earth mother shook off the darkness. I had stopped on a tall saguaro to clean my talons. Suddenly my mate’s eyes widened in warning, but it was too late. My head exploded in pain as iron pellets slammed into the side of my face. My left side went numb as I was thrown violently against the saguaro and then to the ground. I was now blind in my left eye and my right was imbedded with cactus spines. As I lay there paralyzed; I watched the remnants of my face feathers float away as if in a dream.
Through the pain and the haze I could hear several young humans riding away on their metal horses. They were laughing.
I do not know how, but I managed to right myself and perch upon a large stone near the river. I could hear the water, but I was powerless to move towards it. It was then that I realized I was dying. As the sun rose higher and the darkness of death approached, I envisioned my mates beautiful face framed by a darkening sky. I would miss her deeply. There came a jolt and in a moment I was wrapped within a soft covering and lifted upwards in a strong gentle embrace. Overwhelmed by pain I did not resist, yet my talons clenched and unclenched at this unseen danger. As I was carried along I heard nothing but a soft soothing voice.
After many hours the movement stopped and I was placed upon a smooth cool surface. The covering was removed and I found myself in the arms of a female human who I would later come to know as Sam. Sam held me as another human whom she called Bob quickly and gently cleaned my wounds. I felt a pin prick and fought to free myself as the soothing fluids entered my body. A warm covering was placed over me again and I was placed gently into a quiet dark place. Overcome by exhaustion, I slowly drifted away into a deep sleep.
“Good morning”, she said! I awoke with a start, and clacked my beak in fear and anger. The female human called Sam was staring at me. She opened the door to my kennel and reached in. She lifted me up and out, and placed me on the table. “You are a mess”, she said, “but we will see that you are made healthy and beautiful again”. She gently examined me and I was placed back in my kennel. The door was closed and I found myself alone in the safety of darkness once again.
I awoke in my kennel. I was now in an enclosed area surrounded by the other injured birds. In the weeks that followed the routine was mostly the same each day. I was removed from my kennel each morning, examined by Sam. My swollen and damaged eyes were gently treated, and I was placed back into my kennel to rest. Each afternoon I was offered a meal of fresh prey meat which I accepted with great enthusiasm. Throughout this period of time, I observed that my contact with Sam was carefully controlled. I was never handled for more than a few minutes, and I was always handled by the same individuals. While I did not understand this then, I do now. I was being allowed to remain wild.
PART 2. More Rehabilitation, Release
It was now many weeks since my injury and my vision was slowly returning. I was getting stronger with each passing night. I was also getting restless. I missed the freedom of flight and the company of my mate. As I slept that afternoon, I dreamt I was hunting. My wings were full of the cool night air, and I coursed silently through the darkness.
The next day had begun like all the others. I was removed from my kennel and gently examined. When Sam finished her examination, I was placed into a smaller kennel and carried outside. The day is full of dangers to my kind and I was frightened. I longed for the darkness and the freedom of flight.
We stopped and moved inside a large enclosure. It was occupied by one others of my kind, and one was much older than me and strangely calm under the circumstances. Bob took me out, gently placed me down and stepped outside. The door was closed and the others and I were left alone.
Looking up, I could see well enough to notice several tree branches above my head. I flexed my wings, felt strong and everything seemed to work, so I pushed off and attempted to fly to the lowest branch. I made it. Then the older one flew over and stopped next to me. She examined me carefully and her eyes filled with compassion. “You were severely injured”, she said, “but your wounds are healing nicely. It will not be long before you are released”. My mind reeled, released I thought, released, “How can this be,” I asked. The old one answered, “These humans are not like the others that hunt and kill us. They are healers. They understand the circle of life and are part of it”. I accepted her words in silence.
It was now a long time since my injuries, and I had settled as best I could into my new surroundings. I learned that my new friend and mentor, called Scheherazade by the healers, had been severely injured as well.
She told me about her family, and about the evening she was shot by the human. She told me how she had lain wounded and bleeding all night praying for death, and how she was saved by the healers. She told me of her despair and how she came to find meaning in her new life. She told me how she had provided comfort and support to others like me. I finally understood; Scheherazade was also a healer, and I was just one of many who would pass through this place needing her care. It was then that I saw her true beauty, and realized exactly how fortunate I was to be here.
My last day with the healers began as all the others. My vision had been restored and I was able to catch and kill my own prey. Late that afternoon, Bob approached as usual, but this time he came into the enclosure carrying a small kennel. I glanced over at Scheherazade for reassurance, and I saw the answer in her eyes. Today was my day. I was going to be set free.
Bob carried me outside and my kennel was placed into a large iron horse. Sometime later, we stopped and Bob reached in and lifted my kennel out into the late afternoon light. Bob and Sam were greeted by several other humans. I was now being carried down a hill towards a large open area. There were hundreds of humans here. Bob placed my kennel on the ground next to Sam and sat down. Many humans came over to greet them. As darkness approached the crowd of humans became very quiet. Bob stood up. “Here we go, it’s time” he said to me. He opened the door, reached in and removed me. He held my legs gently but firmly.
I was now facing the largest gathering of humans I had ever seen, and Bob began to speak. He talked of my injury, and how I was rescued by humans called volunteers. He talked about my rehabilitation and my struggle to return to health. He spoke about his love for those of my kind and all wild animals. Then Bob stopped talking and looked at me. He removed the bindings that held my legs, lifted me high into the air and he set me free.
I WAS FREE! As I flew, my body rocked with emotion. It was as if every part of me was reaching out to embrace the evening sky. I was filled with joy and abandonment. I flew straight out over the gathering of humans. I said a silent goodbye to Sam and Bob. As I climbed higher, I heard the human that rescued me call my new name. His eyes were wet with joy, and his voice was the last human voice I heard as I climbed higher and higher into the darkening sky. It was the same gentle voice I had heard that very first day. I’ll never forget it.
About Wild At Heart
Wild At Heart is an all-volunteer non-profit 501(c) 3 organization that is dedicated to the conservation and preservation of Arizona’s native wildlife. Support for Wild At Heart comes from generous members of the community who are concerned about our ever-decreasing wildlife habitats. Please send your tax-deductible donations to “Wild At Heart” at the following address: Wild At Heart, 31840 N. 45th Street, Cave Creek, Arizona. 85331. For additional information regarding how you can support Wild At Heart please go to: http://www.wildatheartowls.org/
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