First thing this morning, we loaded Stella into a cat carrier, and drove her out to the wildlife rescue facility near Lyons. She was as calm as she could be in the car, neither flapping around nor cawing. I talked to her on the way, and asked her to come find me, if they didn't let her go too far away to do it. The intake folks were totally cool when we brought her in. They immediately whisked her back to exam, and confirmed several things we had postulated about her. She was indeed young, and probably just strained the one wing when her mother pushed her out of the nest to "teach" her how to fly. The staff said that she would be fine, and they'd keep her for a while to heal. I asked about where they would release her, and they said that in Boulder county, the law requires them to release within 10 miles of where they were picked up, but they try hard to get even closer. They then gave me the answer I was hoping for: if I keep in touch with them, I may be allowed to be the one to release her. I should be able to let her go in exactly the same place I found her: on my property. That way she ought to be able to meet back up with her extended family, and if I am exceedingly lucky, she might talk to me again as she flies freely around my Park.
Before we left the facility, we overheard one of the staff talking about having trouble with a string trimmer, that one of the community service volunteers said wasn't working. Mr S-P offered to take a look at it, so we spent an extra half hour doing a little maintenance for them, a sort of return favor for them helping our little friend Stella to heal. I saw a giant brown rabbit run across the parking lot while I waited, and watched a volunteer crew gather to help them with the current phase of construction for a very large aviary. I want to think that Stella will have some time in the larger enclosure, while she learns how to fly.
Before the Mr sets out on his long excursion next week, he wanted to take the dogs up to his mountain property, and he invited me to go along. Of course my answer was yes. I have only been to the claim one time before, last fall. I've had a few health setbacks since then, but I was determined to go up even if I am more out of shape than I was last time. The first quarter mile or so feels like it goes straight up, but after that it's manageable ups and downs, around trees and rocks and low scrubby bushes. The dogs were thrilled to get to go up for the first time this season, and they ran all over the place. Once we had settled in and started the first campfire of the year (in June... that just seems weird to be the first), Bump sat beside me, and stayed every minute that I was in the chair, watching the fire. He stayed with me when we went to the spring to fill buckets that would later douse the coals, and he and Elsa acted as my guide when we walked down the hill as well. I am so lucky to have such good dogs, who enjoy staying close to the family pack rather than shooting off in different directions as soon as they are off leash. Murray tried to be sneaky several times, and tested his range, both in and out of wheels, but he never got so far away we couldn't find him. All in all, it was a most excellent adventure.
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