There are a few experiences that are so rare in life that they are special to all who hear of them. Our experience with Peanut was one of those experiences never to be forgotten.
Mid‑Summer in the early eighties found me replacing the brick patio. The brick needed a base of eight inches of gravel and three inches of tamped sand. Twelve tons of crushed limestone had been delivered to the front drive, and I was engaged in moving it by the wheelbarrow load to the patio around back. This was probably when my lower back problems began.
On Saturday afternoon my wife, Judy and daughter, Kelly were in the front yard near the pile of gravel when they were "attacked" by a "vicious" bird! The "dangerous creature" had swooped and dived at them as they played on the gravel mound. The crazed bird dived toward their heads and then he would light on a low limb to shriek loudly right in their faces. He was a relatively small bird sitting on the limb. But when he took flight, his size increased dramatically due to his oversized wings. It turned out to be an injured, starving "Sparrow Hawk.”
The bird was squawking and was unafraid of us. I surmised that it was hungry and maybe accustomed to humans. When hamburger meat was produced, the Sparrow Hawk lit on my hands. Seeing him up close showed me that one leg was not being used because of an injury. We named him Peanut.
While Peanut fed on my hand I made high pitched whistling sounds, something like the screeching Peanut made while he was attracting our attention. I hoped that he would associate my whistling sounds with the food. Peanut flew off my hand several times, but he returned until he was finally satisfied. When Peanut was fed, he retired to a tree in the front yard still unable to put both feet down.
Early the next morning I took some hamburger to the front yard and whistled for Peanut. I tried to match his shrieks from the day before. He was out of sight but it wasn't long before I heard him answer! When I finally did see him, he was coming fast, very fast! He flew from a long way down the street and alighted immediately on my hand to feed. His flight was fluid, and graceful, and his stop was abrupt. He extended his wings and used them like a parachute to slow to landing speed. What a thrill it was to have such a wild creature approach when called.
During the following week we were checking books and articles to learn just what Peanut was and what should be done for him. It turned out that Peanut was a Kestrel, not a hawk. A Kestrel is a Falcon: The only true Falcon indigenous to the United States. Their diet is usually large insects and an occasional field mouse. Our reading indicated that Kestrels and Hummingbirds are the only birds that can truly hover. Kestrels can be trained to hunt from the fist like hawks and falcons. They can often be seen hovering over the interstate median in search of prey.
We learned that The Cumberland Science Museum would take any injured, wild creature and if possible, nurse it back to health without charge. We captured Peanut in an old sock which had the toe cut off to keep him quiet on the way to the museum. The vet determined that Peanut had been shot with two BB's in the leg joint. He had no broken bones and would be good as new about three weeks after removal of the BB's.
When he had fully recovered, we brought Peanut home for release. I whistled the next morning and fed him by hand that day. He returned to sit on a limb but without feeding on three other occasions. I saw Peanut in a tree down the street a few days later but haven't seen him since. I like to think that he has since gone on to do whatever it takes to make Kestrels happy in their lives.
We are not fond of the neighborhood boys who come into our yard attempting to kill any bird in sight. I guess all boys go through that stage of life: I did and became a pretty good shot. In fact I think that a BB gun is a good tool in learning to shoot.
I am reminded of the few times I killed a bird with a BB gun. I realized quickly that holding a dead bird in my hand did not provide any degree of satisfaction. In the space of a split second, a living, vital entity thriving and striving to procreate becomes a lifeless bit of trash, fit only to be cast aside. I regret that sometimes beautiful creatures have to be sacrificed in order for boys and men to learn lessons.
1 comment:
What n absolutely wonderful story. Thanks for leading me here Judy.
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