Mulegena
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"If the Sky Wills So"
We kept an Osprey for a few days. It was a great experience. Poor bird died, however, so wasn't great for the bird, but that was his fate, as they
say. Something was wrong with the bird; he held his right wing low, wouldn't eat-- and feeding an osprey is a bit of a deal, especially if he doesn't
want to do it.
But it was his fate, as they say, to be injured or ill and have someone see him and call me, the ad hoc village vet in summers it seems I've become.
They know I'll step up and try-- at least try, to help out. Either that or they know they can fob off onto me whatever is unpleasant, what they don't
want to see in life. Call me and it'll go away from their doorstep.
Paradise, what they came here for was beauty. The sun, the air, the tranquility. Damn the wretched poor animals who lay dying on the streets. That's
not what this is about, this is Mexico. We're retired. Life's beautiful and we're gonna keep it so.
Ah, but those are not my thoughts, not my ruminations. Where did they come from? From no where. Doesn't matter. I'll do my best-- I'm such a bleeding
heart anyway, we fit together well, we do, like peas 'n carrots, like rice and beans. Just get that sick animal away from here, will 'ya?
So, this poor bird came to stay with me. Put him in the back of the shop. Gave him the dog carrier to stay in, left the door open for him to come out
if he wants. He seems fine except his droopy wing and no appetite. His wing's not broken, not dislocated. He just won't pick it up. I run down to
where the pangas come in, looking for fish-- a single fresh recently-fileted carcass, that's all I found. He wouldn't touch it. Ospreys only eat fish,
fresh fish only. Now what? The people who found him promise to bring in some bait fish in the morning. They do care. They really do. They did bring it
as they said.
He wouldn't eat. Frustration. Didn't wait to try him on another whole dead fish. I ran that fish through the blender, made pescado pate, my new
culinary delight, sez I. Wouldn't touch it. Damn. Now what?
That's a mighty big beak there, Osprey. Looks like you could take my finger off in a snap. Don't think you will, though. You had your chance when you
let me check you out for injuries, examine your wing carefully pulling, extending pushing it around you didn't flinch, didn't try too much to get
away.
In fact, you were quite gentle when I approached you down on the river when the neighbor called me to come see about you. You let me slowly walk up to
you, bending down to be closer to you in size, talk gentle to you, you looked at me, you regarded me, you listened. You didn't try to get away then,
didn't make me put the blanket over you that I had brought. To my amazement you just let me pick you up, put you in the waiting carrier.
Such a regal bird you are, Osprey. You hold your head high, don't show any fear of me or the dogs or the cats that look in at you from the front of
the shop. You just take us all in, take the turn-around of circumstances in your life in stride. I could take a page or two from your book. You really
seem to be above it all. Unflappable, that’s what you are. Oh. Sorry. No disrespect intended, your wing and all.
That beak. You could have nabbed me many times over if you'd wanted. You haven't. Sometimes you look at me, regard me with consideration, eyes
penetrating deep into me. The feathers on the crown of your head stand up as a crest. So elegant, You. I feel like a commoner in front of the king in
his palace. This is how you seem, what you make me think of. Even with your wing, even in the dark storage room in the back of the shop, you're one
amazing bird to behold.
In my mind, I bow before you, but practicalities rule in the real world. How to feed you?
That pate? That pureed bait fish I ran up in the coffee grinder? I can’t just let you stand there in front of the dog crate in the back of the shop
all alone. I took you off the riverbank. You’re my responsibility. You’ll starve. Damn... alright, we’ll try.
Need help here. Mick will help, no question there. He’ll help a hundred percent, he will. Listen to my ideas without criticism. Add his own
suggestions. He’s good that way, real good.
This is what we’ll do... Mick held you gently with both hands, let your feet stay on the floor but held your wings down against your body and kept you
from moving around. You stood pretty still anyway, your unblinking, penetrating gaze taking everything in. He held you, supported you while you let me
take your beak in my fingers-- scared I was-- let me pry your beak apart and open your mouth. You let me put fish puree in your mouth, put it down,
way down your throat while you swallowed it. Several times you let us do.
With your dignity unruffled and our confidence in your trust enhanced, you quietly hopped back to your dog carrier, your new home in the back of the
shop, away from the palm trees and river and swimming fish waiting for your stealth blow of quick death from above, in these circumstances which
certainly would seem incomprehensible to a lesser being than yourself.
I wonder and wish I could ask, “Are you aware of your injuries? Do you consider your present circumstances? Are you confused? Do you miss your past
life, a life that a free bird, a bird of prey such as yourself, claims as his birthright? Do you angst over the prospects of your future?”
“Are you anything like me, Bird? Would you have stopped and gathered me up if I were injured, carried me to your nest overlooking the river? Would you
have fed me alongside your young, seen to my injuries? Would you have thought of me at all if you had seen me injured on the river’s edge or would you
have just gone on fishing, making your way in the world of nature as the zopolotes, the clean-up crew of birds, circled then dined on my dying body?”
“Are you wiser than I, Bird?”
You died today, Bird. You let us feed you once again. You were hopping around, still in the back of the shop, still in circumstances so far removed
from the natural order of your previous life and the life of all your ancestors, and so you did die. They say that the first sign of illness in a
bird is death. You hide it so well, the experts say, for to display weakness in the wild is to bring danger to yourself and your young.
Is this the answer to the riddle of your regal, haughty nature? Is this the way you and your ancestors before you protect yourselves? You claimed
dominion over the sky and rivers and fishes? You became king and this your kingdom?
And I, I in my infinite human failings, desires and designs tried to re-order your circumstances, tried to change the course of the river that is your
life and livelihood. Ah, but as your life flowed and ebbed as the river you lived on, so my life courses forward, and for awhile on earth we came
together, you and I, Osprey, an unlikely pair. You, guided by ancestral wisdom born of water and wind. I, your sister bound forever by earth and
thought.
"Raise your words, not your voice. It's rain that grows flowers, not thunder." ~Rumi
"It's the mark of an educated mind to be able to entertain a thought without accepting it." ~ Aristotle
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longlegsinlapaz
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Registered: 11-18-2005
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Very well written, Mulegena! I applaud your efforts, despite the end results. He/she undoubtedly experienced a gentler end than if left on it's own
to nature & to the mercy of zopolotes!
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Woooosh
Banned
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Mood: Luminescent Waves at Rosarito Beach
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I've rescued a few Coopers and currently have four Kestrel Falcons (a mating couple and their soon-to-be-released offspring). These noble native
birds are an inspiration every day. The largest seem to be the most gentle and appreciative.
\"The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing\"
1961- JFK to Canadian parliament (Edmund Burke)
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Barry A.
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Mood: optimistic
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Mulegena--------
Absolutely beautifully written, and the sensitivity and wisdom displayed is exemplary!!!
I see many lessons in your piece, and in your experience, and each of us must interpret them on their own-------thank you for making me
think---------and I thank you for your compassion for "the bird".
My best to you,
Barry
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Gypsy Jan
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Mood: Depends on which way the wind is blowing
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A Very, Very Good Bird Vet
Who helped me save my African Grey parrot from bronchitis and psittacosis told me at the time that when a bird shows it is obviously ill then it is
90% dead.
I haven't finished reading your post; I stop and start because I get upset and teary. I have to leave the monitor and go walk around a bit.
But, maybe, perhaps, the osprey understood and was grateful to you for how hard you tried and how much you cared.
He certainly left you with a lyrical, poetical story to share with others who haven't been lucky enough to share their lives, however briefly, with
such a noble raptor; a king of the skies and master fisher.
“Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow mindedness.”
—Mark Twain
\"La vida es dura, el corazon es puro, y cantamos hasta la madrugada.” (Life is hard, the heart is pure and we sing until dawn.)
—Kirsty MacColl, Mambo de la Luna
\"Alea iacta est.\"
—Julius Caesar
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krafty
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That was indeed eloquent. Thanks.......
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vgabndo
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Mood: Checking-off my bucket list.
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In the wild. In the real world. Our animal neighbors and companions come and go in a very natural way. When the end is near there is no truck with
flashing lights to rush in with life support. There is seldom the loving touch of a family members wing, or fin or paw. There is just the dying in the
natural way; almost always alone.
What you did may not have made any sense at all to that regal bird. It may have been totally unappreciated. And yet, at some level I have to believe
that an animal which was treated with such concern by its parents as a hatchling may have a shadow of recognition when receiving such care from
another species.
You did what a human like you HAD to do. You stepped up to protect an innocent life even when the conclusion was probably foredrawn. You rose above
the barbarian hoard to lend strength to a fading spark of life. I humbly honor you. Your post was the best thing to happen to me so far today. On
behalf of the fish eagle who couldn't, I thank you.
Undoubtedly, there are people who cannot afford to give the anchor of sanity even the slightest tug. Sam Harris
"The situation is far too dire for pessimism."
Bill Kauth
Carl Sagan said, "We are a way for the cosmos to know itself."
PEACE, LOVE AND FISH TACOS
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BajaBlanca
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Location: La Bocana, BCS
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oh Mulegena, how beautifully you put your thoughtsx into words for us to share.
thanks. it was very moving to read.
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Ken Bondy
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Stunningly beautiful Mulegena. Haunting.....sad.......wise....sorry you lost him but he was in good, caring hands at the end. Somehow I am sure he
knew....
carpe diem!
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Mulegena
Super Nomad
Posts: 2412
Registered: 11-7-2006
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Thank you, Everyone.
I'm touched that this rush of thoughts and emotions which came pouring out on these pages last night gave rise to resonance in others' hearts.
Thanks for sharing your own experiences with birds here.
"Raise your words, not your voice. It's rain that grows flowers, not thunder." ~Rumi
"It's the mark of an educated mind to be able to entertain a thought without accepting it." ~ Aristotle
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