No Place For Sissies

I know the ocean is unforgiving. From day one of this blog I've contemplated and written about the evidence of the cycle of life and death that continually revolves in this place I love so much. But today I didn't just stumble on the sterile, bleached bones of it. I participated in the blood and guts of it.  I wish I had done better.

Reggie and I were out for an afternoon walk. He was doing his best mighty dog impersonation and I was occupied collecting trash. I looked up to see Reggie bouncing playfully around a small, dark duck. He'd jump towards it then dash away, only to circle back and downward-dog with his little butt raised in the air, begging the duck to play with him. It was clear the duck was injured.  His little wings splayed oddly and flying wasn't an option. It looked like he would be easy to catch. I debated about whether I should interfere or just let nature take its course.  At a minimum, I called Reggie off and carried him back to the house. 

I couldn't get the duck off my mind. I knew of the Wildlife Center of the North Coast in Astoria and called. They encouraged me to catch him if I could and bring him in. I grabbed a beach towel, prepared a holding box and headed back to the beach.  I couldn't have been gone more than ten minutes.

I looked where I had last seen the duck . . . no sign. I wandered in broadening circles, thinking to myself he couldn't possibly have gotten far. That's when I noticed two large crows occupied with something among the rocks about fifty feet away. With a sinking heart I walked over, knowing what I was going to find before I got there.  In the ten minutes it had taken me to make up my mind and act, the crows had killed the duck and ravaged his tiny carcass.

I know . . . It's nature. It’s the cycle. Survival of the fittest. Perhaps he’d been too injured for rehabilitation. It was undoubtedly a quick death.  I tell myself all those things. And I know there are many more pressing issues.

Still, tonight my heart is sad for that sweet little duck. For the record, his bones are resting in the earth. I hope peacefully.  Brachia matris revertaris in benevolum, little one.  

Addendum: April 5, 2014.  While walking the beach with a friend and Reggie, we spied another injured duck. This time I didn't hesitate.  I pulled off my raincoat and quickly threw it over the duck and captured him. We called the Wildlife Rescue hotline and discovered the Seaside Aquarium will hold injured animals until some one can retrieve them and we delivered him safely to their care.  I don't know the final outcome, but the crows didn't get this one for dinner!