The Cowbird (A trilogy) Part I...The Rescue

[itsmeCindi]

I sat and looked at the little white spot at the base of the fence for longer than I like to think about. I even asked Fred.

“What is that out there, a piece of paper?� He leaned over and peered out the window.

“Maybe part of a feed bag.� He replied. “Something the wind blew up.�

“Are you sure? It’s not moving when the wind blows, but it is moving. I’m not so sure that it’s just paper.�

He stepped back and looked at me.

“Are you suggesting that I go out there and check?� He was in boxers, shirtless and barefooted.

Well, ‘course I was, but I wasn’t going to come out and say that. The races were on.

“No. You’re probably right. It’s probably just a piece of paper.� I said.

It was a Sunday afternoon. I wasn’t sure exactly when the little white thing in the fence caught my eye, but it was fairly early. It was far enough away that I couldn’t make out any details, but close enough that every time I glanced out the window my eye was drawn to it. Finally at about three p.m. I sighed and went and put on my boots. I had to find out what it was that was stuck in the fence. My ‘little voice’ was telling me that closer inspection was required.

I walked out back in no particular hurry. I was almost sure that it was a wasted trip, but the closer I got, the more I began to realize that I was on to something.

It was what we call a cowbird, or cattle egret. Maybe half-grown; about a foot tall At some point he had seen something on the opposite side of the goat wire that interested him, had tried to walk through the fence and had become wedged; one wing one side, and one on the other.

“Well, your not too bright, are you?� I asked. He responded to the sound of my voice by writhing around frantically trying to free himself, and I made a mental note to keep editorial comments to a minimum.

I bent down and surveyed the situation. The wire was so deeply imbedded in his feathers that it was difficult to tell where fence ended and bird began. It was clear that the only way to free him was going to be with a pair of wire cutters and Fred was going to kick my butt for cutting the fence to release a dumb bird. Especially since we were over run with cowbirds. But that didn’t stop me from going after the wire cutters anyway. I couldn’t just go in the house and leave the bird stuck in the fence. It would only be a matter of time before the dogs found it, and I shuddered to think what would happen. Now that I’d discovered him, it was my beholden duty to do something about the situation.

I would like to say that the bird somehow knew that I was trying to rescue him and calmly waited while I tested the wires, trying to determine which one would be the best to cut, but that would be an outright lie. He set about trying to kill me. Every time I reached down there he speared me with his sharp little beak. It didn’t really hurt, and after a time I got pretty good at anticipating his actions, but it kind of ticked me off. Here I was squatting in the weeds, sweat running down my back, swatting at flies, my hands so slippery from perspiration that I could barely hang on to the wire cutters, and he was making it ten times harder by fighting me every step of the way.

I cursed him, and his ancestry, the sun, the flies and the dull wire cutters, and finally I just held my breath reached down there and snipped. By pure luck, I cut the one wire that would free him and rapidly set about pulling him out. I guess he’d worn himself out as he let me handle him without pecking at me, and it was only a few seconds before he was cradled gently in my hands.

I was on top of the world. I was holding a beautiful creature in my hands that to date, I’d only seen from a distance. He was so white, that the sun bouncing off his back literally hurt my eyes. If he weighed anything at all, it would be impossible for me to guess how much, as he was so light that I had to keep checking to make sure that I was still holding him. His neck, under a layer of feathers was as slender as a pencil, and felt as fragile as a paper soda straw. The little beady eye that was closest to me was black as a seed bead and fastened on me, watching my every move with intense interest.

“Well,� I said, “now that we’ve overcome the hard part, it’s time for you to come in and meet the family. Meantime we’ll check you over and see if there’s any permanent damage.�

((Next...Part II...The Release)

[itsmeCindi]

The Cowbird...part II...The Release

“Here’s your piece of paper.� I said to Fred, as I came through the front door holding the cowbird.

“Oh. Look at that.� He said, feigning excitement, his attention drawn immediately back to the car races. I couldn’t hardly blame him for his lack of interest. By now we’d had goats, chickens, ducks, turkeys, dogs, cats, a few piglets, a baby armadillo and a baby possum, a wild baby rabbit and a series of snakes in the house. What the heck was one more animal to get excited about?

I took the bird into the front bathroom, or the examination room, and checked him over. He seemed fine and fully intact, except for his feet, which were functionally sound but ugly as all sin. I set him down on the counter and he found the corner and pressed himself into it.

“Don’t worry. I don’t want you in here anymore than you want to be in here. As quick as you prove you can fly, you’re out of here.�

I won’t try to convince you that this bird could understand what I was saying. All I can tell you was that the second the words left my mouth, he flew right at me, around the room once, and settled on the shower curtain rod.

“Okay…that†™s good enough for me.â€� I caught him and carried him back to the living room.

“Say goodbye to the cowbird, Fred.�

“Goodbye to the cowbird…Fred.�

Shut up.

I carried the bird outside. I don’t mind telling you that I took my time about releasing it. We had kind of established a tentative relationship and I knew that once he was free I would never see him again. Up close, anyway. I spoke to him as I carried him, reminding him how lucky he was that I had gone to the trouble of going out there and cutting him loose so that he could go on to new cows and new bugs and new fences that he, by the way, might want to think about steering clear of. He listened avidly, his little heart ticking against my hand a mile a minute.

My plan was to carry him out to the grove, and release him there. It was a relatively safe place where he could find a tree and sit a while and collect himself. Even though he didn’t appear hurt, I suspected that he was traumatized, and might need a while to get himself back under control.

I eyed the two gates that separate the front yard and the pig pasture from the grove. It was hot as Hades and twice as humid and I felt that I had done my part and had proof that the bird could fly, so I settled for just aiming the bird in the general direction of the grove and then tossing him into the air. After all, he could fly there a lot faster and easier than I could walk there.

Without a word of goodbye I lifted him, and gently tossed him into the air. What happened next couldn’t have been anymore surprising than if he’d suddenly turned into rock. He might as well have, as after a few awkward flaps, he did a nosedive straight into the pig pasture.

Even no bigger than he was, he made a startling amount of noise during landing, what with the frantic flapping and all, and much to my dismay, caught the attention of several sows that were lying out there basking in the afternoon sun.

A fact that few people know, is that pigs will eat anything. That means anything. We had two Duroc barr’s that almost completely wiped out our free-range chickens until I caught one of them with a Barred Rock hen in his maw and figured out what was going on. The minute my little cowbird landed in the pig pasture, he had the undivided attention of Jennifer Lopez, our registered Duroc sow. There are very few things that will prompt J-Lo to run. Food is one of them, even if it comes in the form of a mid-afternoon snack the size of a young cowbird.

(Next...Part III…The Reward)

[itsmeCindi]

(Part III…The Reward)

After his abrupt landing, the little cowbird got to his feet, shook himself, and then began to walk around inside that pig pasture like he was trying to fit right in with creatures that weighed hundreds of pounds more than he did. All the while, unbeknownst to him, J-Lo was stalking him; making her way rapidly in his direction, her nose to the ground.

There are few things that I am actually afraid of, but J-Lo is at the top of the list right next to getting stuck in the mud. My happy frame of mind shattered, I started cussing again as I opened the gate to let myself into the pig pasture. I’d come this far in getting this bird back into the air; I figured I might as well go whole hog. I put myself between the bird and J-Lo and began frantically shooing him, trying to get him to fly again like he’d done so admirably in the bathroom minutes before.

After about three trips around the pig pasture, the bird was still running, and not using the wings that God gave him to get him away from not only me, but a predatory sow with an empty spot in her belly.

“Dogs!� I finally yelled out of desperation.

Way back under the oak trees at the back of the pasture I saw two heads pop up. Girl and Sugar the pasture dogs, had heard my call. In the meantime, I took one threatening step in J-Lo’s direction.

“Back up!� I yelled, two words that all the sows are familiar with. They know by now that those two words, not respected, will earn them a swift kick in the jaw. She backed up, but being J-Lo, she still kept coming.

By now the dogs had arrived and being dogs, and not too swift on the uptake, they misunderstood my mission and set about trying to catch the cowbird. It was complete chaos. I was tripping over dogs, dodging J-Lo and cussing fit to embarrass Andrew Dice Clay, all while the cowbird, the root of all the evil, was running in circles trying to escape all of us.

“The pig!� I yelled at the dogs. “Get the pig!� I kicked out at J-Lo for emphasis and Girl caught on and turned on J-Lo, backing her up and distracting her.

If I had been surprised at the lack of intelligence of the cowbird before, nothing could have prepared me for what it did next, and I made up my mind then and there that it was too dumb to live and was officially on it’s own. Running dead out, as fast as it could go, it ran smack into the fence and embedded itself in the goat wire, leaving it in exactly the same shape as it was in when I found it to begin with.

I was too dumb struck by now to even cuss. I just stared slack-jawed as the bird tried to wriggle free. Sugar, who was still intent on catching the bird, zeroed in on it. In one last desperate attempt to inflict a happy ending on this chaotic event, I kicked at Sugar to discourage her, missed, and accidentally planted my foot in the nether regions of the bird, none too subtly freeing it of the fence.

Then, after it gained it’s footing, it miraculously leapt into the air and flew away, leaving me to think that if I’d simply drop-kicked it, instead of tossing it, it might have found it’s wings before the whole pig pasture snafu occurred.

I let out a long shaky breath, and almost laughed. I stood there in the middle of the pasture, drenched in sweat, with two confused dogs winding around my legs and watched J-Lo totter off to find a shady spot, and asked myself if it had all been worth it. I could have left the bird where I’d found it and let nature take its course, and that may be what I should have done. I looked toward the grove, where the sun was just beginning to set, and saw the cowbird catch an air current and soar up and over the grove and disappear, and knew that my efforts had not been in vain, and I'd done the right thing. I had my reward.

[GaryM]

Another great story Cindi! Which publication are you going to submit it to?

I can see you drop kicking that bird into flight.

[itsmeCindi]

I hadn't even thought about it. Any suggestions?

Thanks Gary! [img]/forums/images/icons/grin.gif[/img]

[GaryM]

Don't know too much about publications that would print something like that, but someday I expect to read about you in the Readers Digest "Most Unforgetable Person" column.