SPENCER'S SONG
New Year's Day came with much
ado. Usually, one wakes up groggy from
being up late welcoming fireworks at
the stroke of midnight, and singing "Auld Lang Syne", (Should
old acquaintance be forgot, and never brought to mind?) to the theme of shaking off the former years, and starting a
new.
We managed to stay up an hour
past midnight and that was a stretch for me, being an early riser. However, there were incredible
firework displays New Year's Eve and I was enthralled like a kid. I had to see each and every sparkle, flare,
and bombs bursting in air until the entire atmosphere was clouded with
smoke.
It was difficult to rise and
shine early the next day. Yet, I decided
to start a new tradition by taking the family out for breakfast, something
we rarely do. I proceeded to get ready, giving out directives
to my family to check on pets, making sure they were fed, letting them out, or in since our revolving door is always in motion. As my husband was peeking into the
cage of our new parent finches, he
noticed the Papa finch in distress.
Somehow, he had managed to become tangled in the metal clasp of a hanging
item. He was frantically trying to fly
out of it, all the while nearly ripping his leg out of socket as it profusely
bled. After a few minutes of trying to
untangle the bird without success, my husband ran to his work truck to find a
tool to cut the piece off.
I held the
finch in place as to not injure itself further, shouting, “Hurry!” My husband cut
the metal piece and loosed the bird from the cage. Holding the bleeding finch in my hand, I shouted for someone to get me a transportable bird box, towel, and
keys. I was not going to let this bird
die!
Spencer had become a part of our
family the moment we brought him home last year.
He had also heart brokenly lost his pregnant mate over the summer. Yet found love again producing four beautiful
babies. We had a mission of mending this little one! Our New Year's plans were curtailed.
What Breakfast tradition? Despite the teens protesting for their meal. I swear food is the first thing on their mind when they wake! They make a bee line to the fridge before saying, "Good morning" I could be on fire and the first place they would go to is the fridge before dousing me in water or calling 911! And then they stand in front of it... opening and closing repeatedly, as if something else is going to magically appear. Is this some kind of upper body work out?
After about the fifth time of shutting the door, they walk away proclaiming there is nothing to eat, despite its appearance of groceries nearly busting through the walls.
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They are a never ending eating machine!
No one was dining until Spencer
was fixed!
Panicked, I quickly looked up
places open on New Year's to treat him.
I felt every second mattered.
Deciding the Internet was taking too long, and automated phone calls, grabbed
everyone and said, "Let's go!"
We jumped in the truck and headed out on the nearly empty highway
driving from one end of our city to the other to no avail. Being the holidays, most if not all Vets were
closed! And the one’s open didn’t treat
birds.
My daughter was holding the bird
in a box. While I was driving, my husband and I were going back and forth on
phone calls between emergency vet clinics, and exotic bird specialist. We were sent on a wild goose chase into
another county to once again find ourselves at a closed clinic.
It was raining, foggy, freezing, and frustrating. I asked my daughter to check on the little
life, to have her open the box just enough for him to accidentally escape. Spencer was in flight all over our vehicle while I was driving! Because he was familiar with my voice, he flew right into my hair and perched. I was going nearly 60 mph dodging raindrops,
hung over drivers, and dirt roads with this finch flying in my face like a
hummingbird back and forth, I wasn't sure if he was out for vengeance and going to peck me to death, or trying to get my attention to turn around and go back home. It was the first time in a while I was scared of something smaller then my thumb!
.jpg) |
| "I'm sorry, Alright?" |
Eventually, he landed behind the steering column in the dashboard!
There was nowhere to immediately pull over. I had to drive nearly ten more miles of
winding wet roads before coming to a stop. The heater had been on high, windows closed, and there was no
chance of opening a door for fear the finch would fly away.
After being pulled over for nearly thirty minutes,
the vehicle became like a sauna! It was hot! We couldn't open a window, and my
precious finch was playing peek-a-boo in the dash. His face would surface just long enough for us to see him as he
darted in and out of the opening, but not long enough to grab him.
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| "Catch me, if you can" |
We didn't want to injure him any further, so
we had to treat the situation gingerly.
I thought we may never get him out.
I started to lose hope in the situation, I had to open the door
regardless of the risk. My daughter and I had to change seats from front to back, I was not cut out to climb over seats in cramped situations.
I had to make room for my daughter to use her lengthy arms and hands and
get this now stubborn bird back in the box.
.jpg) |
| "Doctors, I don't like no stinking doctors... I'm not going anywhere!" |
I stood outside in the freezing rain deciding on whether or not to call
for back up.
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| Uh...Houston we have a problem, we have a finch MIA. |
But who? I thought, “I have to have a bird to present
for help and as of now, it’s playing Houdini”. I knew we couldn't continue driving with this fowl in flight. I could see the headlines now, "Family tragically killed by finch in face".
It was too cold to continue standing outside. I quickly
jumped back into the vehicle, and started whistling a tune to my tiny tweeter.
My daughter states, “Mom, now is not
the time to be whistling a tune” I explained I was trying to entice him out,
and it worked!
Being wooed out, Spence finally flew back into his familiar nest….
on my head! I nabbed him back in the box.
We all sighed, "Thank you God". It was such relief. I didn't want to believe we drove all that
way trying to save him, to have him fly off and die somewhere eventually. We were never able to find someone who would
look at the bird. Feeling somewhat
defeated, headed towards the house after stopping to pick up some triple
antibiotic, gauze, and bandages. I had to be its only doctor that day, and Hubby its surgeon.
.jpg)
I was
determined to save this Papa bird. He had been taking great care of his four new babies over the past three weeks with regular feedings,
warming them in nest, and keeping a close watch. He couldn't die. I was more than determined to nurse this bird
back to health one way or another.
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| "Chicken soup anyone?" |
When
we arrived, we took him out of the box to examine the leg further. The bleeding had stopped, but it looked bad. There was
still a piece of metal chain wrapped up in his leg, which gave the appearance
his leg was split in two and mangled. My
husband and I just looked at each other and said, well let's get this thing off
no matter what.
We didn't know if it
meant taking off the leg with it. It was
a difficult decision. Spencer had not
made a single peep the entire ride over the roads in search of a clinic, nor
when we were holding him. His breathing
was sporadic, and I knew he must have been in horrific pain, because he usually
was the loudest one twittering in the house each morning.
When we arrived back home, nearly three
hours later, we immediately took him into the infirmary, our bathroom. When we sat the box down on the bathroom
sink, he let out a peep, seconds later he peeped even louder, letting his
babies, and his mate know he was there. “I’m
here guys, I’m back…hold on I’m coming”
.jpg) |
| "It's just a little bruise...I'll be fine...just waiting for Nurse Graff and Dr. Kirby to finish practically ripping my limbs off. |
They all started singing back to
him. I could only imagine the conversation
between them all.
|
| The wife "What took you so long! These kids are driving me NUTS!" |
You could hear the babies, shouting for food, just as our children complain…always wanting more!
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| "I'm starving and there's nothing to eat in this house!" |
You could hear the anxiety and relief between
them. The babies hadn't spent one second
without their father since birth. I
turned Spencer over on his side trying to hold him steady while hubby began the procedure of cutting away the metal alongside his teenier then a
tooth pick leg. The tool he was using
for this operation was a six inch Dike (diagonal plier wire cutter) on a leg
that was barely an inch long, and merely a centimeter thick. One wrong move and the whole leg would be
sliced in half. My hand was shaking as I
held the poor thing still. Hubby's hands
were trembling as he neared the cutting area.
We knew the fate of our feather friend was in his hands for that
moment. When the cut took place, Spencer
let out a shrill unlike I had ever heard. I was afraid to look. Yet, his leg was still intact.
Inspecting closer, found that he wasn't able to move his leg. I feared it broken, however, treated the area
bleeding with the antibiotic cream and with a prayer began to place him in a
small dark box with hay bedding to let him heal or pass, which ever came first. But, Spencer began to sing again. It was as if he was protesting being
separated from his family.
My husband
said, "Put him back in the cage with his babies, and we'll see how he
does". As soon as we put him in, he
immediately flew to the food bowl and started ingesting quickly, within minutes
he was feeding the babies, all four of them.
I was astonished at the dedication of this bird. How was this bird operating in such devotion
after being injured as such? You could
see he was unable to stand on the injured leg, as he balanced on the other to
eat. It literally brought tears to my
eyes as I watched how determined this bird was too live so that his children
may live.
Awestruck at the design of
nature. God had instilled in this little
fowl a purpose in which it was to complete, regardless of its injuries,
bloodshed, or inabilities to stand on both feet. I stood in amazement and watched as he
speedily fed the babies, and then hopped into the nest with them to continue to
bring warmth, despite his pain.
"How God? How is this
possible? I thought” The next morning I was hesitant to open the covering of the cage, for
fear I would find our Spence past on, yet before I had the curtain raised,
Spencer began his song. He was singing
to his babies in such a melodious tune, he bellowed out gladness and sang with fierce meaning, tweeting to his young, teaching them to thrive through injury, and continue
to lead on.
His songs became much
stronger with each passing day. His
voice of determination resounded throughout our home. This little bird with a big heart continues
to sing as he now stands on both feet solid and strong.
The lesson we learned that day was
priceless.
One, don't panic! It isn't always as bad as it appears. Two, don't give up on what seems
hopeless. Three, never ask your teen to
check on a bird in a box while driving, unless you’re into fashionable
feathers.
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| "Does this bird make my butt look big?" |
Four, your purpose is greater than your pain...keep
moving forward!
This finch was no fool, he had the eye of an eagle!
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| "I'll be back". |
God used that tiny finch to teach
us tenacity. He allowed for what seemed
a tragic moment turn into an experience of sheer laughter as we drove with
feathers flying from my hair.
He caused
a striving family to pull together for once on a mission to mend. He put a song in our hearts, Spencer's version of "Auld Lang Syne", “Shaking off the former, and moving
forward”, he didn’t have time to stay stuck in the pain, he had purpose and
purpose had him!
Spencer sang out loud,
he sang out strong, and now we know its Spencer’s song.
La la la la la la la la la la
Sing, sing a song
Sing out loud
Sing out strong
Sing of good things not bad
Sing of happy not sad.
Psalm 59:16
But I will sing of your strength;
I will sing aloud of your steadfast love in the morning. For you have been to
me a fortress and a refuge in the day of my distress.
Brenda A. Graff
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