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The Injured Owl

James Bates

    Bring on spring, Greg Kramer thought to himself, as he stood by the back door pulling on his parka, fleece-lined boots, chopper mittens and warm hat with ear flaps. It was mid-March and there’d already been over sixty inches of snow so far this season, and he knew in his heart of hearts that it could be a least another month before it would begin to melt. Might as well make the best of it.
    “Linda, I’m going for my walk,” he called into the living room where his wife was sewing.
    “Down to the trail?”
    “Yeah. I’ll be back in a while.”
    “You going to bring your binoculars?
    Greg was an avid birdwatcher. “Absolutely.”
    “Have fun.”
    He stepped out the back door. The day was gray and overcast, maybe twenty degrees. It felt good to be outside. Good to be moving. Good to be going for a walk.
    The road to the trail was little traveled; used only by locals driving from here to there, so when he saw the dark shape off to the side up ahead, he was mildly peeved, figuring it was a bag of someone’s garbage.
    He raised his binoculars to get a closer look, but it didn’t look like a bag of trash at all. Curious, he began walking. What was it?
    He approached carefully. When he was about twenty feet away, the shape moved. He stopped, then, warily, took a step closer. What the...? Suddenly, a wing came up. Then a head. Startled, Greg stepped back momentarily, then collected himself and hurried forward. He recognized what he was seeing and blurted out, “Oh, man, this is so cool,” as he came up to the big bird. The tufted feathers that looked like ears gave the mystery away. He was looking at a great horned owl, and it was beautiful.
    It was also injured. Greg watched as it flopped ungainly on the ground and his heart went out to the big raptor. He knew right away he couldn’t leave it to suffer but had to do something. He took off his parka, not minding the cold, and knelt down. “It’s okay there, fella. I won’t hurt you,” he spoke softly, as he carefully wrapped the injured bird securely in his jacket. When he felt he’d done all he could, he carefully picked up the bundle. “Let’s go get you taken care of, big fella.”
    Miigwan Redbird worked as a technician for the Minnesota Raptor Center at the University of Minnesota’s St. Paul campus. She was on her phone standing at the window talking to her idiot boy-friend, when she saw a little compact car pull up and bump to a halt against the curb. On the phone, Frankie was going on and on about how sorry he was that he’d fooled around with Jamie, but Miigwan had tuned him out. She was watching as a tall skinny man with a scraggly beard got out and went around to the passenger’s side. He opened the door and took out a bundle. There was a flurry of activity, and she saw a head pop up. The head of an owl.
    “Screw you, Frankie,” Miigwan said, “Don’t bother calling again.” She clicked off and stuck the phone in her pocket just as the guy and the owl came in the front door.
    “Welcome to the Raptor Center,” she said walking toward him and smiling her greeting, “I’m Mia. Looks like you’ve got a patient for us.”
    “Hi. Yeah, I do. I found him by the side of the road out west of here in Orchard Lake.” The old man was reluctant to let go of the owl, Mia could see that. She also thought it was nice that he felt so attached to the wounded bird. Sizing up the situation she said, “He seems very comfortable with you. Why don’t you hold on to him for a minute and let me make a quick call?”
    A moment later Linda Zen picked up and said, “Hi Mia, what’s up?”
    “A guy just brought in an injured great horned owl.”
    “Okay. Bring him back. Right now.”
    Mia hung up and said, her voice urgent, “Let’s go, mister.” She led the way through a swinging, double-wide door, down a short hallway and into a brightly lit room.
    A stocky, no-nonsense woman was waiting. “Let’s see what we’ve got here.” She gently took the bundle and lay it on a sparkling metal table. Then she carefully pealed back the parka and began studying the owl.
    While Linda bent over the big bird, Mia turned to Greg, “I’ve got to help out here. Do you want to wait?”
    Ignoring the question, he asked, “What do you think is wrong with him? Is he going to be all right?”
    Linda paused in her examination and looked up, flashing a quick grin, “Well, first of all, he is a she. A nice, big female.” Linda ran a comforting hand over the owl’s head and all three of them watched as it blinked its big eyes. “I think her wing is damaged, plus, she’s still in a bit of shock. I’ll need to check her out some more.”
    Greg frowned, “Oh, no. Is he, I mean, she, going to live?”
    The lead surgeon of the Raptor Center cracked an encouraging smile, appreciating the old man’s concern, “Yeah. I think so. Looks like she was hit by a car, but she’s a strong bird, and I think she’s going to be fine. She just needs some TLC. We’ve got that in spades, here, don’t we, Mia?”
    Mia grinned back but didn’t say anything. She was in the process of ridding her mind of Frankie. The guy was a loser. Why she had bothered wasting the last three months of her life with him, she’d never know. What she did know was that owls were signs of many things: imminent marriage, sudden travel, a guest arriving soon, mental distress and impending death, to name but a few. Mia understood all that. She also knew owls could stand for good fortune and that’s what she was going to go with today. It was good fortune that had brought the injured owl to her.
    Mia had studied birds extensively throughout her young life. Her first name, Miigwan, in fact, meant feather. But birds were more than a hobby, they were a calling. She was an Assiniboine from in northern Minnesota. She was nineteen years old and in her second year of college, majoring in Wildlife Biology at the University of Minnesota. She had a good job at the Raptor Center and worked with good people, Linda Zen being one of the best. Mia wanted to do something meaningful with her life, and every day she made it a point to learn something new because one day she hoped to be doing what Linda was doing, working on an injured bird and performing the first of the many steps on the road to its recovery.
    She even got to meet decent people like the old guy who brought the owl in.
    “If it’s all right with you both,” Greg interrupted her thoughts, “I’d like to wait around for a while.”
    Mia smiled at him, “That’s great. I’ll take you back to the waiting area.”
    Linda spoke up, “Hurry back, Mia. I’m going to need you.” She gazed lovingly at the owl, “This looks like a two-person job.”
    “I’ll just be a minute.”
    Mia got Greg settled and was on her way back to surgery when her phone buzzed. She took it out of her pocket and glanced at the screen. It was a message from Frankie. She grimaced and went to contacts and deleted him. She was done with the guy.
    Then she hurried off to help out Linda. The owl was going to live and she was going to be able to assist in its recovery. It was looking like it was going to be a really good day. In fact, a great day, for both her and the owl.

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