Tag Archives: crow

The Shawshank Redemption

Today was rather Shawshank Redemption-esque…

Firstly, walking a dog with a friend through fields we stopped for a break beneath a large oak tree (actually, it could’ve been almost any kind of tree for all I know). There I saw a dirty 10p piece nestling in the mud between dog-tramped blades of grass. Ok, so it wasn’t quite the scene where Red unearths Andy Dufresne’s tin box of cash and the letter that moves the viewer to tears; there was no black rock that had no business being in the field, and not even a wall, but dammit there was a tree and some grass.

Driving back we spotted a crow that had been hit by a car, but was still alive, watching the traffic pass within inches of its beak. I pulled over and retrieved the stricken bird. Her claws (I’ve no idea if the poor thing was female, but I don’t like ‘it’, and I’m damned if I’m writing ‘he or she’ all the time) gripped my forefingers. Her right wing appeared to be broken, and some of her tail feathers were bloodied. We took her home and sat her in the shade of the garden, and I dripped water into her beak, which¬† she opened wide, like a chick receiving worms from its mother. Such beautiful grey eyes. She even took some bird seed which we sprinkled on the grass before her.

I phoned my mother’s friend, who runs a charity rescuing all sorts of animals, and the prognosis didn’t look good. Wing breaks are hard to fix especially on larger birds, as they’re prone to trying to remove any splints etc. Plus the internal damage might be too great, and the shock could kill her. But at the very least a vet would be able to put her to sleep peacefully.

The veterinary nurse we later took her to seemed to think there was no wing break. Which is encouraging. I’ll have to phone up Monday and see what happened. But what that really put me in mind of, Shawshank-wise, was Jake, the crow that prison librarian Brooks raised, and later freed when he himself was set free.

Ok, so all in all, these links are pretty tenuous, and I’m obviously mighty relieved that I wasn’t involved in having to fight off the attentions of dubious prisoners, but you can rest assured I’m also pretty unlikely to take the proceeds of my Small Change collection and strike out for a remote beach in Mexico, no matter how idyllic and breath-taking it might be…