Loon Moments - Scott Franz (small books to read txt) 📗

got to understand the animal kingdom is a big place and not all animals are on equal footing in my book, and not all animals generate in me the same kind of feelings. For example, I think we can all agree that insects are in the animal kingdom and yet they hardly endear themselves to us as they bite, sting and otherwise annoy the heck out of us. For me, an awful lot of reptiles also fall into this same category. I just don’t get all mushy and sad if I happen to see a snake that’s been run over by a car, in the same way I would go…..AWWWW…if you happen to see a dog or some other animal in the same condition.

Now one of the more confusing animal groups for me, at least from an emotional standpoint, is birds. Who can fail to be inspired by the great birds of prey like eagles and ospreys? And who doesn’t love to see hawks and falcons as they soar effortlessly over the tree tops. There are all kinds of birds I really like, and in case you’re thinking I only like the majestic birds of prey, I also like robins and sparrows and, oh heck, I can’t even name them all, all that I really like that is.
But THEN…There’re the birds that one could care less about and which you don’t really get all emotional about when they fly into buildings, or crash into plate glass windows or the grill of your car. Situated very squarely in this latter group of birds is the pigeon.

Now one day I’m out inspecting trees and I get a call from the forestry office about a bird stuck in a tree. Now I’m thinking to myself, “of course it’s in a tree, it’s a bird; where else would it be?” But anyway, I suggest to the dispatcher perhaps this was more of a situation for animal control officers than it was for a city forester, but apparently all of those officers were very busy elsewhere with really dangerous animals or something, like lions or tigers or bears, Oh My…

So I drive to the address I was given; it was very nearby a grammar school and there standing around this tree was an enormous crowd of concerned mothers, teachers and children, all standing in a circle around this tree. They were craning their necks and straining to get a better view of this bird; a pigeon that actually had managed to get itself stuck in a tree.

What had happened was this bird somehow had gotten its foot wrapped around what looked like mono-filament fishing line, and the other end of the line had wrapped around a tree limb; the result was essentially a pigeon on a leash, located about 40 feet up in the air in the tree.

I guess I was seen as the cavalry in this situation, because when I rolled up to the scene, I immediately got swarmed by the concerned group of onlookers who wanted the pigeon saved from its present predicament. I listened to all of their pleas and suggestions as to how to save this pigeon on a string. They ranged from suggesting I divert a bucket truck to the site, to calling the fire department’s hook and ladder, neither of which I was prepared to do for a stuck pigeon. I finally got talked into personally making a rescue attempt.

Now I’ve already explained that I really hate pigeons and I couldn’t have cared less about this particular pigeon’s fate, but with all those sad faces looking up at me and their relentless pleadings for help, I decided to do my good deed for the day and rescue the pigeon. I went back to my truck and got out a rope and saddle and start climbing into the tree for the rescue attempt. Now the higher I get in the tree and the closer I get to the pigeon, the greater the anticipation rises in the crowd below. I’m telling you, it was something you could really actually feel….

Finally, after a few minutes of climbing, I get as close to this bird as I possibly can, but the problem was this: At that height in the tree, the limbs were so small that I couldn’t walk out on them far enough to get close enough to the pigeon without having a branch break out from under me. So after thinking for a minute, I finally decided I could still maneuver myself just a little closer; maybe close enough to the bird to reach out and cut him free with the some hand pruners, which I happened to be carrying with me. So I struggled and I maneuvered and eventually I got close enough to the bird so IF I reached as far as I could to cut the little twig the bird was attached to, it could fly free. Now the problem was that the bird was still going to have the line around its foot and would now be dragging a small amount of twig with him or her as well.

The situation was what it was and I decided it was worth the risk. There was no way I was going to get any closer, and I had to make an executive decision right then and there. So, I cut the little twig and the bird that was now flapping around like a madman at the end of this line was set free.

The very second I cut the bird free, it flew off in a rush and immediately a huge cheer went up from the gathered multitudes under the tree. And I’ve got to tell you, at the moment that bird flew free of its trap, you’ve never heard such a sigh of relief and so many sounds of excitement and joy.

Unfortunately, the joy and excitement was extremely short lived because of what happened next. As the bird flew off in a flurry of flapping wings and to the sounds of cheering and clapping, it headed right towards a lamppost that was located on the corner of the street. As it sped past the post, which happened to be the concrete aggregate type, with a lot of little bumps on it, the line the bird was still dragging behind it caught on the aggregate of the lamppost, at which point, the bird flew in ever, small and smaller circles as the line wrapped around the post. It was kind of like a tether ball wrapping around the tether pole, if that’s what you call them (tether poles?) and this activity culminated with the bird smacking into the light pole at about MACH 1; the concussive effect killing it instantly.

Now of course this all happened in a split second and the roars and the cheers were still going on as the pigeon met the end of the line, both figuratively and literally, the cheers of joy and the sounds of excitement immediately becoming a collective sigh of despair.

You know I try hard to find a moral, or some life lesson during this segment of the show, and I know there’s got to be a lesson or a moral in this story somewhere; but I’ve got to tell you I’m really struggling here to find one. Maybe it’s something about how we should go out of our way to help, even if we don’t like or agree with those we’re helping. Or maybe it’s about trying to show a little more compassion now and then, even for those in situations we don’t truly understand or can relate too, or maybe, oh golly, I don’t know, I’m truly struggling here…

I generally don’t have to struggle so hard to find a lesson in my stories, but remember, I warned you upfront. I’ve already explained I’ve never been a big pigeon lover to begin with and I really felt I made a heroic effort to save the darn bird anyway. And I’ve got to tell you, the end of this pigeon, reminded me of the endings I used to see on Saturday morning cartoons and I had to stifle my laughter until I thought I was going to explode inside. It truly was a Wile E. Coyote moment from a visual point of view. So I’ve got nothing, absolutely nothing. No moral or lesson that goes along with this story, or if there is one, you’re going to have to come up with it yourself. I hope you have more success than me. And that is the “Loon Moment” for today.

From -The “Loon Moment” – January 6, 2007

Here’s what I would have like to have added:

I hope I wasn’t too hard on pigeons in this broadcast. Immediately after it aired, I had a caller into the show who reminisced fondly about the good times he had with his elderly Italian grandfather who raised carrier pigeons. I had to admit that perhaps I’d judged the entire pigeon group a little too harshly. After all, his loving memories of raising and caring for his grandfather’s pigeons and spending hours with him were the very essence of what the “Loon Moment” was all about.

How could I deny him just because they happened to involve a species of bird we commonly refer to in the Chicago area as “flying rats”? I just couldn’t. I probably had the only truly genuine pigeon lover, in a five county area, perhaps even in the station’s entire three state listening area, calling into my show. If it would have been a PETA nut-job calling in, I could’ve had a field day with it and it would have been great radio. Just my luck!

Speaking of PETA, I recently found out that they kill more dogs and cats each year than a bad North Korean cuisine restaurant. So much for the fuzzy warm pictures of pandas and grizzly bears; they couldn’t give a damn. They’re all about fundraising; pure and simple and they absolutely aggravate the living hell out of me.

They never miss an opportunity to raise money and if you notice, they’re never saving any ugly animals. See how much money you can raise with a “Save the Warthog” campaign. I hate to admit it, but I was listening to a “vegan” radio show today on Air America. I know, but it was for research; if you don’t listen to these idiots, you can’t get a real idea of how loony they really are. Anyway, they guy on the show was a true believer in animal rights whose job was with an investigative unit of some government agency. He basically said without naming any names that PETA, as an organization, jumped on every bandwagon, of every legitimate animal rights case for the purpose of fundraising; even though they had nothing at all to do with the case and couldn’t influence it if they wanted to.