The capture

She slept hidden under the tree, but I noticed her. Her left wing sitting oddly; her shape unbalanced. She was also alone.

I had seen her a few days ago, when I was in transit from work to work so to speak. All of my time now consumed by deadlines and responsibilities, but she gave me a moment’s pause as I considered her.

I left her twice because I knew she was not going to be saved. The angle of that wing was too dramatic, it hung from her like a banner. Today is Sunday and I was on my way home from my studio. I had already had a meeting and am even now postponing more work I must get to. Still, I knew what I must try to do. I turned around and bought a container for her to ride in.

Now a catch of a semi-flighted bird that can swim well near water is a daunting task with a crew of people. I was stuck with just my own self to manage it.

I tested her by walking directly up to her. I knew she would be off balance and clumsy with her broken wing. I was hoping she was so tired and out of it (we call it ‘down’) that I could just grab her as she lay there.

She stood assessing me as a threat and began to hiss. All of her feathers stood on her neck as she swayed her head back and forth. We became one in our concentration, she to get into the water and me to keep her from the water. I stood between her and the muddy pond. If she reached it there would be no way I could catch her. She knew this and began to run using her good wing to give her speed.

I ran as well in singular purpose, to prevent her from getting into the water.

We danced; she and I, each of us mirroring the other in anticipation of the next move, left or right. I cannot describe it in rational words how I can read the slightest turn of the head or lift of feather to know where the bird is going. It is not part of my “modern” brain. It is some deeper place that language does not go to. There is no room in it for regular thought, it goes ahead of it controlling every muscle as I ran side to side. My body was pushed forward by my will. I can’t really recall when I have ever ran and dodged that fast.

In a catch one of you will make a mistake. You have to watch for it, a stumble the body weakening just a bit. Your window is small because otherwise the mistake will become yours and the game is up.

She tripped, falling on her chest as she forgot for a moment that one of her wings would not help her balance. I grabbed her then, hearing her hiss. She briefly struggled away and I caught her again.

Unlike some birds geese do not ever give up. Swans do, they realize the game is up and they just gently give in. This goose was determined to get free of me. I held on with my heart pounding and my lungs reminding me that they were still not quite healed after my bad illness this past spring.

Panting I got her in the container and closed the lid. My jaw hurt from the rush of adrenaline that must have helped me run faster. Now she is here for a brief span before she goes to be humanely euthanized. Which is a better death then slowly starving under that tree alone.