birds



Swainson's Hawk



Today, I was attacked by a bird. In most people's lives this would be a strange and unfortunate story that might even be the unusual incident they have to report for that week, month, or perhaps even year. For me, however, this is relatively common place. After all, someone who drives for a living is more likely to get into an automobile accident as they are more frequently on the road than your average person. As someone who works regularly with wildlife, I have more than my fair share of close-calls. And actual incidents. As a result, most people who know me respond to such a remark with a bored nod of their head or the standard reply of "again?"

As most bird-attack stories go, it was fairly benign. The bird took a half-hearted flying leap at my face in an attempt to make it seem tougher than it really was, changed course mid-attack and ended up grabbing onto my pant leg with its talons. Which left me dragging a hawk around the room before I was finally able to dislodge it.

Perhaps normal people would have been terrified by such an experience. I imagine that not too many years ago, I certainly would have. Oh how your perception of the world changes.

Ferruginous Hawk

Let's face it, accidents happen. To me, accidents happen a lot. I'm not sure what the inciting factor is, but I feel that it is a careful combination of bad luck, clumsiness, unpredictable situations, with just a shake of Murphy's law thrown in for good measure. For example, not too many people (but I know they are out there) can admit to being taloned through supposed talon-worthy falconry gloves by an angry Snowy Owl. 



And then there was the time I got attacked by a Saw-Whet Owl. For those of you who don't know, the average size of this full-grown cutie is 20cm. And this one was still growing. Admitting you were attacked by a bird the size of a Mandarin is not the easiest thing to do. Occasionally I like to claim that there were 50 of them and that they cornered me in a dark alley. In reality I was attacked by a baby owl - the size of a Mandarin - with an injured eye.



Long-Eared Owl


Of course I was also jumped by a deer fawn. Orphaned, before you can go ahead and leap to my rescue with a claim of "those mama's can get pretty mean". Nope, this little guy was all by itself. I guess the weeks of bottle feeding were going to his head and he was feeling a might bit stronger. Good for the deer, bad for me.

So there you have it. A few of my more memorable animal attacks by a soon-to-be wildlife vet. There are many more, but honestly, who needs to rehash every scratch, puncture, bite and near miss? All in a good day's work.

Because that's the thing about treating wildlife. They don't thank you, they don't appreciate your efforts, they often try to kill you or maim you, and when everything is said and done, they don't write. How inconsiderate.

Kestrel