On Monday, I was going about my afternoon when suddenly my boss rushed through the office door (which was shut to keep in the air conditioning) with six anxious children right behind her.
“Miss Winters, are you afraid of birds?” I heard her ask, and turned around to find her holding an injured Robin in her hands.
Honestly, I wasn’t really sure. I didn’t want to be afraid of the bird but wasn’t always totally cool with things just wandering around. I’ve gotten more accustomed in recent years (gerbils at the last school helped with that), but random bird fluttering about the office was an unsure thing for me. But, I saw six worried little faces and said, “Of course not! What happened?”
Six little voices started to explain. “We found him.”
“He was trapped in the netting in the blueberry bushes.”
“We think he has a broken leg.”
“Can you help him, Miss Winters?”
Oh. We’ve gone from, “Are you afraid?” to “Will you help him?” I turned back around to my computer, opened Firefox to Google.com, and searched for the nearest vet, picked up the phone and asked a question I never dreamed would come out of my mouth, “Yes, hello. I work at [school] and the children just found a Robin trapped in the netting of our blueberry bushes. We’re pretty sure he has a broken leg; what do we do?”
“Well, don’t touch him. If it’s a baby, his mother won’t come back for him if you’ve touched him.”
“Well, it’s a little late for that. I’ve got him here in the office with me right now. And I don’t think he’s a baby. He’s young, but not a baby.”
“Oh. Ok. Well, call [other vet]. They treat birds.”
I hang up and say, “Ok, kids. I’ve got the name of another vet that treats birds. I need you to stay a little quiet so I can call them.” I call the next vet and explain the situation again.
“Well, we don’t treat wild birds,” I hear through the phone. “But, you could take him to Tufts Wildlife Center.”
“Oh, what’s that? Where’s that?”
The wonderful woman went on to explain where they are and what they do. I am amazed that we have such a thing in our area. I ask if we need to call ahead, and she says no, just take the bird in.
I hang up the phone, greatly relieved. I have good news for these kids. I explained to them that we are very lucky to have a Wildlife Center Vet nearby, and we could take the Robin there. They all cheered. My boss started looking for a box to pack up the bird to keep him safe on the drive. By this point, the poor terrified bird had worked his way into the corner under my office mate’s desk, and he wasn’t really interested in being disturbed. My boss found a box, and she took the kids out to put grass and twigs and food in box for the Robin. After prepping the box, the kids went back downstairs, and my boss prepared to leave and take the bird to Tufts Wildlife Center.
On the way home, I was thinking about the day and how there is never a dull moment in a school–and how you end up doing the wildest things you would have never in your whole life imagined. I called my dad and chatted with him about it all, kind of laughing about the ridiculousness of parts of it.
And then he stopped me and said, “Valerie, I seem to remember a little girl who once rescued a baby rabbit that her dog had injured. Wasn’t his name Brownie?”
Wow. That took me back. I think I must have been about 10. I found the little bunny, hurt on my back porch. I immediately brought him in and made him a bed in a shoe box and tried to feed him carrots (he fit in the palm of my little hand…I doubt he was eating carrots as of yet). Dad was out of town and Mom was less-than-thrilled about this development. But we sure did try to nurse that little guy back to health. He actually made it about a week. He died the night before my birthday, in Mom’s hands, as she was feeding him goat’s milk from an eye-dropper. I guess it’s not all so ridiculous after all…
And our Robin? Tufts Wildlife Center is going to call us when he’s all better, and my boss will go get him so we can release him back at the school. I’m sure that will be a day these precious kids will never forget.
