Swainson's Thrush by David Lindsey

Swainson's Thrush by David Lindsey
Originally uploaded by D.L. Lindsey.

Have you ever seen a Swainson’s thrush before? As you can see from this photo (found on Flickr), it is a beautiful bird. Everything about it is smooth – its rounded head, its soft browns, its doe-like eyes. I find everything about it gentle and soothing. The thought yesterday that someone would want to harm one was absolutely heart-wrenching yesterday.

I’d received a call from a co-worker who knew about my work as a volunteer with FLAP. James had come across some kids who were kicking a Swainson’s thrush on the sidewalk. It was still alive, but he didn’t know what to do with it. I agreed to meet him at a place we both knew, where I could then take the bird to the Toronto Wildlife Centre.

When James drove up, he had the Swainson’s thrush cupped cozily in his left hand as he steered with his right. James is a volunteer with Big Brothers, and his little brother was in the passenger seat next to him, as earnestly concerned as James ways. I noticed right away the distinctive marks on the bird’s throat and breast. Its eyes opened, then closed. James explained to me that whenever he’d tried to move the bird from his hand, it became agitated, so he’d just left it as is. He did, however, have a paper bag that I’d given him previously for bird rescues. I took the bird from James’ hand, using the grip I’d been shown by FLAP volunteers, and put it in the paper bag for transit.

I said good-bye to James and drove up to the Toronto Wildlife Centre. The bird was handed over for veterinary care immediately while I worked with the intake coordinator to supply all the information for the necessary documentation. While I waited, I heard another coordinator on the phone talking about how someone had fed a bunch of pigeons some bread crumbs and then driven over them, killing at least 7 of them. I was dumbstruck.

The vet came out briefly, and I mentioned my concerns about how badly damaged the thrush’s tail feathers were. She said that there was “head damage”, which was by far a greater concern.

I left the Wildlife Centre knowing that I might never know what happened to this thrush; their resources are so strapped that they are not able to provide updates on animals that are brought to them for care. But I was grateful that they were there at all, and that this bird would receive the best possible care.

But as I drove home, I couldn’t stop thinking about the cruelty I’d heard about that afternoon. I couldn’t understand how anyone would want to hurt a wild animal. I knew that these things happen all too frequently, but it’s another thing entirely to be confronted with this reality. I imagined James, driving by some street in The Beaches, seeing a couple of kids kicking a flapping bird down the sidewalk, and I was so angry and confused that anyone could do that to another living thing. I couldn’t imagine the kind of ignorance that would allow anyone to torture an animal. I could not relate to that kind of person, and I wondered what other horrendous things these kids would do in their lifetimes. And even as I drove, heartsick, a thought occurred to me that in that moment I could possibly be just as ignorant as those kids. Was *I* proverbially kicking these kids down the sidewalk?

Later that evening, I spoke with James again by phone. I really needed to know more about the circumstances in which he had discovered the Swainson’s thrush. It turns out that the kids were very young, and James didn’t think that they were just prodding it (rather than hauling off and kicking it) to see if it was still alive. He thought that they could have been more gentle, but that they hadn’t been malicious or abusive.

So, lesson learned on my part. I’m grateful for that inner voice that refused to accept the worst about children, about humanity. I know there’s still the incident with the pigeons and other terrible things done to animals, but in this instance, I am relieved to know that it was relatively innocent.

And in the end, regardless of guilt or innocence, I am grateful that there is a place like the Toronto Wildlife Centre to care for beautiful creatures like the Swainson’s thrush.