“Okay, little guy, I’m going to take you somewhere to get you help.” She started driving again. Thank God the rain had stopped.
She headed for the veterinary hospital a few miles away. The owl’s unblinking gaze was fixed on her the whole time.
“I promise you’ll be okay,” she said. “Just don’t claw me when we get there? I just need to make sure you’re not hurt so we can get you flying again. You want that, don’t you?” If she’d been able to fly, she’d never want to touch the ground again.
Kate stopped at a red light and looked down at the owl. Its one wing was still a mess of white-and-gold feathers, while the other was tucked securely against its side. The owl swiveled its head to watch the bright lights of fast-food restaurants and coffee shops along the street. Then it swiveled its head back to look at her. It slowly blinked, its dark eyes luminous.
“You’re beautiful,” she whispered.
Kate didn’t feel silly talking to the owl. She loved animals. Before her mother had died, her family had a golden retriever, Macintosh. She’d loved to bury her face in his fur and talk to him about everything she’d done that day. That was one of the many things she loved about animals—the quiet ability to exist on the earth and to accept others with such patience. They listened and let humans be themselves. It was a gift that people often took for granted.
They soon reached the veterinary ER. The bright red-and-white sign of the building glowed above them, the mist from the storm creating a halo around the letters.
She considered the problem of safely handling the owl, then spotted her gym towel in the back seat. That might do the trick. Kate retrieved the towel and got out of the car.
“Just remember, I’m not going to hurt you.” She approached the passenger door, then cautiously raised the towel with one arm while she opened the door with the other. The owl pressed itself flat against the seat when he saw her advance, which made it more difficult. But after some careful prodding, she managed to wrap the cloth around the little bird and swaddled him like a baby, making sure his talons couldn’t hurt her.
“See? That wasn’t so bad.” She ignored his disgruntled hoot and grabbed her purse with her free hand before she entered the building.
The woman at the check-in desk wore a cheery Christmas sweater and was watching a Christmas movie on the big-screen TV in the empty waiting room.
Kate cleared her throat, making the woman jump. “Hi. This owl crashed through my car’s side window. I think it injured its wing.”
The woman’s lips parted in shock. “We don’t see wild birds here that often.” She stood and came around the counter. “Do you have it secured?”
“Yeah, he’s wrapped up. His talons are in the towel.”
“Okay, great. Let’s get you into an exam room, and I’ll have the doctor come straight in to look at him.”
Kate took a seat in the first exam room, the owl still bundled up on her lap. She stroked the top of its head, and it tilted its head back to look up at her.
“Now we wait—” Her whispered words were cut off as a middle-aged woman in green scrubs and a white coat stepped into the room. Her gray eyes lit up with wonder when she saw the owl.
“Janice said you had an owl, but I honestly didn’t believe her. Let’s set it up on the exam table so I can get a better look.” The vet held her hand out. “I’m Dr. Coburn.”
“I’m Kate. Thanks so much for looking at him.” Kate set the towel-wrapped owl down on the exam table.
“I’ll see if he wants a little meat treat before I start messing with his wings.” The vet opened a little Ziploc pouch of treats and offered one to the owl. He stared at the vet’s hand and the treat with a look of effrontery.
“Oh come on, just try it.” Kate stroked the owl’s head, and then it opened its beak and took the treat, swallowing it.
The vet carefully unwrapped the towel around one side of the bird. The left wing seemed to be okay, at least from what Kate could see as the vet carefully stretched it out and moved it around.
“Huh,” Kate murmured. “His wings looked worse just a few minutes ago when I first found him.”
“Well, this one looks all right to me. Let’s check his right side.” Dr. Coburn covered the left wing and exposed his right wing. The owl clicked his beak in warning as the vet gingerly stretched his right wing out from his body.
“I know it hurts. You’re a brave little guy, aren’t you? No one is going to hurt you.” She ignored the hiss the owl threw at her.
“Hey, she’s not gonna hurt you,” Kate whispered as she stroked the owl’s head. “It’s a boy?”
“Oh yes. Male barn owls have paler white-and-gold feathers, while the females are darker gold with hints of brown to blend into wooded areas while they nest. This fellow is a boy, aren’t you, handsome?” Dr. Coburn stroked the owl’s head with a gloved finger, and he made a little cooing sound, his eyes half closed.
“He seems to like that,” Kate giggled.
The vet nodded. “One of my colleagues once said that owls have bird hardware but are downloaded with cat software. They love to be petted but can nibble a little when they’re feeling playful or anxious.”
“Is his wing going to be okay?” Kate asked.
