Birds of Prey - My Big Night Out

Every year it happens. It's a sad tradition that we can't avoid. On Oct 1st, Todd's boss tells the sales force, "kiss your wife and kids and tell them you'll see 'em in 90 days."

The 4th quarter is Todd's busiest time of the year. Those who never drink an ounce Jan - Sept lose control and blow it out the last few months of the year. This is a good thing. As Andrew says, "the more wine bottles they drink, Dad, the more money you make and the more cool stuff you could buy for me - if I have good behavior of course."

But it's rough on the homefront, people. I'm managing the weasels for 16 hours a day, 6-7 days a week. When the New Year finally blows in, I pack it in by 9. I'll admit that. I'm not ashamed. I dunk my crab legs in the warm drawn butter then hit the sack. We all do. It's lights out by 9:30 at the Janko crib.

So to prepare for this year's challenge, I did my best to research events in the area I could take the kids to that would really break up the day. More or less, help me make it through.

I noticed a free class at the library, "On Spirit Filled Wings: Birds of Prey Rehabilitated." It almost sounded like a religious experience so I signed Andrew and I up.

Toad watched baby weasel and Andrew and I cruised on up. I tried to explain to Andrew what the program would be about, but they didn't give me much to go on so I was pretty vague.

As we walked into the library, a librarian told us if we were here for the bird show we had to be very quiet because of the animals. ANIMALS? Wait. There are live aninals in this presentation?! Shit. I'm doomed. At least have the Wildlife Rehabber lady bring em out in the beginning of the show or it's gonna be a long ass night.

We took a seat up front (always do) and the Earthy looking woman started her powerpoint presentaton. The program did say it was for 5 year olds and up, but there's no way Andrew's gonna sit still when there are two huge cages with old nasty looking beach towels draped over them. He wants at those animals. He will not wait.

So she starts the presentation by telling us obvious shit:
-->keep your animals on a leash at all times
-->don't try to rescue an animal that's laying on the side of the road gasping for air b/c it will most likely attack you
-->don't mess with bird nests
-->don't try to make an animal a pet that clearly belongs in the wild

Yeah yeah. Get all that. But then she starts ripping through these slides of animals she has rehabbed over the years. The stories were awful, but the pictures were downright disgusting. Kind of reminded me of that film that show you in Driver's Ed where a car is mangled because the driver neglected to put on his turn signal before changing lanes. Here are some examples:

"This is a barn owl that got caught in a barbed wire fence up near Traverse City. That's why it's eyeball is hanging out of the eyesocket and it's left wing is missing."

"And someone in Sterling Heights was out hunting and thought this hawk was a turkey. The gunshot blew his anus off."

"Perhaps the saddest situation is this poor Snow White Owl. It was struck by a car and dragged 20 feet. It lived for a good 3 days. We tried to sew it's body back together but his leg was real busted and a busted leg is ALWAYS fatal. Kids, I want you to remember that. An animal can be missing an eye or feathers but if his leg is screwed up, he might as well be dead."

Surprisingly, the kids didn't say a word. Andrew looked at me a few times and made weird faces but we hung in there.

And she really teased the kids. She'd talk a big game about the animals she had in the cages and kept saying, "As soon as my Asst Dave gets here, we'll bring them out so you can meet them."

After an hour of this nonsense, Dave walks in. She smiles a lot at him and decides to crack open a cage. She brings the animals out (w/o Dave's help BTW) and chats up the cages she has in her backyard and all of the crazy shit she does for them. Sings for them. Plays the guitar, reads books, etc.

The hawk and owl entertain us for a while and then it's question and answer time.

Gotta love these:

"Why do you do this? I mean what is your REAL job? What kind of adult has time to play a guitar for a hawk that's just about dead?"

"Where did you buy the wood for your cages?"

"If you unhooked that hawk from your glove right now would it kill someone in this room?"

"You said if a bird breaks it's leg it's pretty much dead. So how do you go about making it dead?"

She passed out post cards for the kids to send out and upon further inspection I noticed it's a sleazy direct mail piece begging for donations. No wonder she tried to give me a handful.

We were walking out and Andrew told me he's changed his mind about what he wants to be when he grows up. He wants to take care of sick birds and he's okay with the fact that she doesn't get paid - he'll just live with us forever and never go to college. His bills will be minimal. Just the wood for the cages.

As we're pulling out of the parking lot, The Rehabber lady and "Dave" are standing in front of her SUV with the hatch popped and the cages inside with the beach towels on them. She and Dave are embracing eachother and he's running his fingers through her 12 foot long hair.

Of course, Andrew has to comment. "Geez, Mom. Looks like Dave helps her with those birds and other stuff, too."