SALLY SMITH

When I called, he didn’t come. Unusual for him as he’s food activated and it was ‘that’ time.

I called again. Still no dog…so I went to the back screen door and called for a third time.

There he was in the back left corner of our lawn nosing around a ball of fluff — a moving ball of fluff.

I slammed out the door, pulled him away from the fluff and saw a small round bird. It wasn’t moving much but a bright little eye peeked at me back over its right shoulder.

I hauled Blue inside, grabbed a small red hand towel from the back cupboard and went outside again; very gently I covered the bird with the towel, picked her up and went to the garage to find a small box to put her in.

She wasn’t hurt as much as I imagined because she escaped from the box, flew, or threw herself off my gardening table and headed for a small patch of grass. I gently picked her up again and saw one of her claws was curled under at the ‘wrist’.

It was a quiet Sunday afternoon, my fella was off doing theatre work, so I put the box in the car on the passenger seat (after taping it shut), left the perpetrator of the incident at home (much to his dismay) and headed out to the Ottawa Valley Wild Bird Care Centre on Cedarview Road in Nepean.

I’d been there once or twice before, vaguely remembered where it was but as I got closer realized once again why I didn’t live in, or near, Ottawa — traffic, fast traffic.

Occasionally the little bird pecked at the top of the box but she was really a good passenger, mostly quiet.

The Wild Bird Care Centre is not very well marked, no big sign, no flashing lights saying Here-I-Am…so I drove right by. I could still hear her peeping every now and then, and her impatience made me drive even faster.

When I eventually reached the end of the road and could go no further, I had to find a place to turn around — not easy.

Finally I spotted a turning place, did the turn and headed back. There it was side-by-each with a car shop.

I took box with bird into the centre, rang the bell and waited for someone to come and take a look; a young woman came down the stairs to meet me, unstuck the box, took the bird out and put her in a clear box, asked me to fill out a form, gave me a Case ID number (06-044) and said it would be about four days before there would be any news.

So I headed back home — much slower.

It was four days later when I heard. Her injuries had been so severe — head, fracture to left shoulder and collarbone, deep punctures to spine so she couldn’t use her left leg — and so they  had to humanely euthanize her. “The extent of serious damage was beyond the medical ability to repair and the Starling would not be able to heal well enough to survive in the wild.”

I was pretty bummed out.

But they gave me a pat on the back: “We are comforted in knowing that you, a caring rescuer, took the time to bring us the bird.”

I was bummed out again only two days later when I got an $80 ticket in the mail for speeding along Cedarview Road heading to the Wild Bird Care Centre.

I guess the little girl was worth it; I’d do it again.