So, What is the Right Thing to Do? Part 1
I just finished reading “The Inner Life of Animals” by Peter Wohlleben. It’s a fun read and an interesting examination of the emotions that all animals are surely able to feel. The author’s unimpassioned presentation of the facts is based on his observations of both wild and domesticated animals. His commentary has given me a fresh perspective.
The author doesn’t come out and say this, but I’m beginning to understand that I don’t have the right to interfere with wild animals. Sounds naïve when put like that, so let me explain:
Wild animals have their lives figured out. They’re out there contentedly doing their wild thing. They don’t need us or want us around. But how many times have I gotten involved because I think I’m helping – how many times have I swooped in to help an injured bird, with very poor results, if I’m honest. Countless! (And yes, I am aware that it is illegal keep wildlife unless you’re specially licensed.)
One such incident that still nags at me happened thirty years ago; at the courthouse, the judge in whose chambers I was working came into the office after lunch and said there was a baby bird in the grass that was in danger of getting run over by the lawnmower. Starlings had nests in all the niches of the courthouse building and this little guy had either been blown out of his nest or pushed out by stronger siblings, probably the later. (Nature at work, I’ve sadly come to learn.) There was no way we were going to be able to get him back to his mother, so I rushed outside and scooped him up. It was summer, and I had a teenager at home who had the tenderest of hearts, so together we worked to bring this little bird to fledging age.
I had a cage handy just for emergencies like this, so we kept this little guy for weeks. Acting like amateurs, we named him and had an absolute blast watching him grow his official feathers, gobble hamburger from tweezers, and learn to fly in the living room. He was gregarious and entertaining. We even taught him to recognize and catch his own worms. When it seemed he had reached maturity, we gave earnest consideration to the “how” of releasing him into the wild. I had started hanging his cage outside in the apple tree, so he could familiarize himself with being outdoors. He was very excited by it all.
So, the day arrived. I took him out of the cage and placed him on a branch. He sat there for the longest time taking it all in. An hour later he was dead. A smart Magpie spotted him for what he was – easy prey. And it wasn’t like the larger bird was hungry. He didn’t even eat him – he just killed him for the heck of it, I guess. I was brokenhearted. And angry with the Magpie even though this, again, was nature at work.
Now these many years later I recognize the horrendous mistake I had made – I had inserted myself into an ecosystem that was none of my business. I thought I was helping when all I was really doing was prolonging the inevitable. This little Starling, without its mother’s guidance and teachings was never going to make it. I was a very poor substitute for her despite my best of intentions.
The hubris! I agree – it’s astonishing!
More recently I tried to help a Sparrow that collided with a window. (Will I never learn?) Because this little guy was an invasive species, our wildlife center was not permitted to help him recover, so employing my handy-dandy cage once again, I ran to the rescue. Surely, I reasoned, with rest to regain some energy, he would overcome his mishap. Well, he had obviously sustained a TBI from that collision because for the few days I had him, he was very clumsy and couldn’t seem to get his feet underneath him. He couldn’t maintain his balance on a perch and even standing on the bottom of the cage, he would tip over. But I thought time was all that was needed. I gave him water with an eye dropper but was also encouraging him to drink from a shallow cup. Well, that little guy drowned in that silly cup of water. He was so unsteady; he could not prevent himself from falling into it nor could he get himself out.
This little guy was badly injured, and it was unlikely he was ever going to be able to recover, but I could not see that. (By the way, this has become an interesting topic of discussion lately – bird collisions with our modern, glass-predominated architecture.) If left alone, he undoubtedly would have come to the attention of another smart Magpie and the ending would have come sooner. It sounds terrifically harsh and goes against my natural inclinations for caretaking, but maybe that’s the more merciful, more natural ending for a wild animal whose skills and abilities and knowledge are compromised? And an ending that would have come more quickly if I hadn’t interfered.
By trying to save this bird’s life, all I really did was prolong its death. You tell me – what’s the right thing to do?
This is a two-parter, so I’ll be talking about this again . . .
