One of the great things about growing up in the most populous city in Maine was that it was incredibly walkable. We used to walk to the candy store, the used book shop, the pizza parlor and even to our prestigious college preparatory school. The route was so familiar all three of us could have done it with our eyes closed and told you every scene we were passing. I think that's why the baby crow stood out so much.
It looked like an angry little black lump with an enormous gullet, but it sounded like a cross between a fire alarm and badly tuned band of clarinets. Someone had tried to feed it dry bread, whether out ignorance and true pity or in hopes of getting the guy to choke and shut up, neither me nor my sisters were sure. What we did know without a doubt was that this little guy needed saving. So my big sister Beck scooped him up and we ran the last three blocks back to the house. Daddy was just pulling up in his car and before he had a chance to process what was going on, all four of us had piled into his Porsche.
In retrospect, perhaps letting him finish his business call would have been a good idea, but cell phones were rather new at the time and we weren't use to the etiquette, so off we all went to the local wildlife rehabilitation center.
Once there we bravely turned over the bird. Mission accomplished with no greater mishap than Beck getting covered in disoriented baby crow droppings.
I was only thirteen at the time and I not very good at follow up, so I never did hear what happened to the crow. However being of a hardy breed, I'm sure he grew up big and strong and was released back into the wild to live a happy avian life.
Have an animal rescue story of your own to share? I'd love to post it! Send submissions to me seekingsheltercomic at gmail dot com or use the Contact Marjorie form. Everyone loves a feel good animal story!