*sighs*
I'm in a field that deals with death a lot. Upon entering the world of wildlife, I encountered it. I've had to deal with sick animals all the goddamn time since about the first grade, being that I knew all there was to know, in my peers' eyes... I've seen a lot of animals die, and it's always hard.
Today at work, the head lifeguard drove up to my jeep, saying he found a bird with a broken wing. I followed him to find a black skimmer walking by the boardwalk. Black skimmers are among some of the most graceful and beautiful birds out there... it's something to see them in flight, to see them dipping their beaks into the water and watching them gobble up a fish...
He said the wing was broken. That was an understatement. This bird's left wing was hanging on to its body by a thread. It would occasionally try to fly, flapping and turning its wing in ways that... it was horrifying to watch. By now, a small crowd had gathered around, and the least terns were attacking it. I had the lifeguard walk through carefully, to try and get the terns away. One woman offered an old beach towel, which I used to pick the bird up. It bit me with its beak, which was totally appropriate, and I covered its head...
Everyone was looking at me expectantly, and I had to tell them what had to be done. While I drove to the site, I called Annie, my boss, for advice. She said that if the wing was damaged above the elbow, the only thing to do would be to euthanize it.
The wing would never heal. The wound actually looked like it was burnt. No vet would tell us differently, this bird would never fly again. We couldn't, say, amputate it and keep it as a beach mascot, skimmers don't take to captivity, and we don't have a license to keep wild birds... I had to tell this to a group of onlookers, all of whom nodded grimly. The best thing to do would be to put the poor thing out of its misery.
I took the skimmer, still wrapped in the towel, and drove off to where no one would see me. I placed him in a garbage bag, and tied the end to my Jeep's tailpipe. I turned the car on and left it on for five minutes...
There's no better way for an animal, especially a wild one with such an injury, to go. In the end, he wasn't scared, wasn't fighting, wasn't in pain... he fell asleep, and then he was dead. He wasn't left to fend for himself, to be pecked apart by a gull or eaten by a stray cat. He was spared being killed, spared starvation, spared the pain...
I've worked in animal rehab clinics and vet hospitals. I've seen animals of all shapes and sizes get euthanized in various ways. I've seen animals killed to feed other animals. I've seen animals die of old age, I've seen animals killed by other animals, and there were many times that I've seen an animal be put out of its misery in some way, shape or form. Name a method, and I can probably tell you an animal, injured and unable to recover, that I've witnessed being killed in that way...
But I've never had to do it myself before.
I did what was necessary. I did something noble. I did something right. But I also did something I've never had to do before, something I never wanted to do before, something that goes against my very nature.
It was much better for that skimmer to die peacefully after a few minutes of pain and fear than for me to keep my hands clean, to leave it there for nature to take care of it, prolonging its agony for hours, or even for days.
But something inside me, no matter what, will be unable to reconcile with that...
Today at work, the head lifeguard drove up to my jeep, saying he found a bird with a broken wing. I followed him to find a black skimmer walking by the boardwalk. Black skimmers are among some of the most graceful and beautiful birds out there... it's something to see them in flight, to see them dipping their beaks into the water and watching them gobble up a fish...
He said the wing was broken. That was an understatement. This bird's left wing was hanging on to its body by a thread. It would occasionally try to fly, flapping and turning its wing in ways that... it was horrifying to watch. By now, a small crowd had gathered around, and the least terns were attacking it. I had the lifeguard walk through carefully, to try and get the terns away. One woman offered an old beach towel, which I used to pick the bird up. It bit me with its beak, which was totally appropriate, and I covered its head...
Everyone was looking at me expectantly, and I had to tell them what had to be done. While I drove to the site, I called Annie, my boss, for advice. She said that if the wing was damaged above the elbow, the only thing to do would be to euthanize it.
The wing would never heal. The wound actually looked like it was burnt. No vet would tell us differently, this bird would never fly again. We couldn't, say, amputate it and keep it as a beach mascot, skimmers don't take to captivity, and we don't have a license to keep wild birds... I had to tell this to a group of onlookers, all of whom nodded grimly. The best thing to do would be to put the poor thing out of its misery.
I took the skimmer, still wrapped in the towel, and drove off to where no one would see me. I placed him in a garbage bag, and tied the end to my Jeep's tailpipe. I turned the car on and left it on for five minutes...
There's no better way for an animal, especially a wild one with such an injury, to go. In the end, he wasn't scared, wasn't fighting, wasn't in pain... he fell asleep, and then he was dead. He wasn't left to fend for himself, to be pecked apart by a gull or eaten by a stray cat. He was spared being killed, spared starvation, spared the pain...
I've worked in animal rehab clinics and vet hospitals. I've seen animals of all shapes and sizes get euthanized in various ways. I've seen animals killed to feed other animals. I've seen animals die of old age, I've seen animals killed by other animals, and there were many times that I've seen an animal be put out of its misery in some way, shape or form. Name a method, and I can probably tell you an animal, injured and unable to recover, that I've witnessed being killed in that way...
But I've never had to do it myself before.
I did what was necessary. I did something noble. I did something right. But I also did something I've never had to do before, something I never wanted to do before, something that goes against my very nature.
It was much better for that skimmer to die peacefully after a few minutes of pain and fear than for me to keep my hands clean, to leave it there for nature to take care of it, prolonging its agony for hours, or even for days.
But something inside me, no matter what, will be unable to reconcile with that...