CW: Debbie Downer
On our morning walk, I saw something that at first appeared to be a bit of a tree branch in the road, before a quarter-mile mark. A few more steps and I realized it’s a bird, a really big one. I thought it maybe a hawk, but had a sinking feeling in my gut. A couple of more steps confirmed that feeling: a big, gorgeous barred owl. It wasn’t squished either, so I imagine he collided with a passing vehicle. The speed limit on my road is fairly slow and people do fly, despite knowing there are young children in several houses and elderly in many. But a collision at any speed with a farm or other work truck would probably yield the same result. It made me a bit sad, this was one of my regular visitors that caused me to worry about my fur babies and call them close, if we were outside together and I heard the call. Still, we all managed to co-exist peacefully for almost ten years, so of course I feel sorry for my oft-invisible friend.
We’ve got a very specific job, and it’s to get animals back to the wild. We’re a waypoint for animals, not a destination. We only have so much capacity, time, and resources and after a certain point, having permanent residents detracts from our ability to meet that responsibility. We give every animal our best efforts and sometimes that is just making them comfortable one last time. Mercy is something real in a harsh world.