So Katie Martz, Client Services Coordinator at McC Publishing, came into my office this afternoon and said: “You’re going to hate me for asking, but would you mention the sale on your blog?” She knows that 1) I’d rather not mention business-related things on my blog and 2) that people really do appreciate hearing about a sale, and 3) I’d rather have a trust fund to support myself and my staff, but one is not forthcoming in the near future. Given all that, here’s official notice that 1) I could never hate Katie (she’s absolutely a joy to work with and, besides, what would I do without her?) and 2) There’s a March Madness sale on at McConnell Publishing for 20% off of everything, good through this coming Friday (March 23rd) at midnight. I hope it comes in handy for some of you.
Here’s my other news: (or Why Does the Title Say Tom Turkey?) FaceBook readers know this story, but I know everyone on the blog doesn’t read FB so I thought I’d relate it here. Last Saturday, Jim, me, Willie and Tootsie are in the car driving back from the market. Our plan is to spend most of Saturday cooking and cleaning for the Univ of Wisconsin vet students coming out to learn to do ultrasound pregnancy checks on my flock. Dr. Harry Momont of UW is a reproduction specialist, and each year the Ruminant Club comes out with him for ultrasound training, good conversation and my homemade pie. I wanted to make them a nice lunch too, so we were on our way home from picking up what we needed for Sunday’s lunch. (Menu = home made chicken salad made from one of our local, grass-raised chickens; cheese, kale and roasted tomato sandwiches with home made bread for the vegetarians, and most importantly, home made pie (this time a mix of strawberry, cherry, black raspberry & rhubarb).
We’re almost home on a local busy highway and run into a traffic jam. Cars are slowed because smack in the middle of the road is a turkey. He’d been hit by a car, but his head and neck were up, his eyes alert, and a string of cars veered around him as we approached. This was not something I could just drive by and forget, so I asked Jim to stop, and he pulled over right away. Extremely mindful of the danger (it is very dangerous to walk into the middle of a highway, please keep that in mind if you are in a similar situation), Jim took one side and I took the other and we stopped traffic completely. Thankfully everyone had already slowed down, so it wasn’t too difficult or risky. Then Jim, another man and I attempted to capture Tom. To our amazement, he stood up and woozily began to walk. So we herded him off the road into an adjoining corn field, and because he seemed pretty spry, decided to leave him there to recover. But as we walked back to the car I found myself unable to drive away. After we left he had crumbled down into the field, and was lying in the hot sun. We knew he was badly injured, but he seemed to be a long way from death, and I just couldn’t bear the idea of leaving him there to suffer.
“Jim….,” I began to plead. “I just can’t leave him there, can we go back and get him?” Without an eye roll or objection of any kind, Jim stopped the car, and we went back with a blanket to catch him. We had little trouble this time, Tom Turkey was not able to outrun us. His injuries were starting to catch up with him. While I cautioned Jim about the danger from his feet (huge nails for digging in the ground), he swooped a blanket over him and we paraded to the car. (Notice my brave, supervisory role here.) My biggest worry was getting Willie out of the car and putting the turkey into his crate; ever since Willie’s injury and treatment he’s been less obedient about not leaving his crate until I say. (He HATED me picking him up and carrying out of his crate, which I had to do for months.) He is much better now, but I wouldn’t say 100%, I’d say maybe 95% reliable. That wasn’t good enough now that traffic was screaming along at full speed right beside us. I told Willie to stay (and yup, I guarantee I repeated myself just like we’re not supposed to), while I pried open the crate door with my heart in my throat. He did stay, bless him, but I kept the door almost shut while I wormed my arm inside, took his collar and held on while he jumped out, pretty much into the wing feathers of Tom Turkey. I wish I had a video of Willie’s face when he discovered the turkey. Or maybe of the turkey’s face? Within about one second or less, I got Willie off the road and into the back seat of the car, (smack on top of Tootsie who was in a body harness attached to a seat belt), I lost my perscription sunglasses and Jim got the turkey into Willie’s crate. Everyone got re-arranged, the turkey settled down in the crate, Willie got off Tootsie’s head and we searched unsuccessfully for the sunglasses, then gave it up and drove home.
The rest of the story is a bit sad, but perhaps predictable. We took the dogs home, took Tom Turkey to a Wildlife Rehab Center in Madison, who promptly told us that Tom was too badly injured to save. I wasn’t surprised, I had heard him begin rattling with every breath on our trip into town. So we gave them the go ahead to euthanize him, and drove home again. Facebook readers have been so incredibly kind about what we did, but as I mentioned there, we did this as much for me as for the turkey. I just hated the idea of him dying a long, pain0-filled death. And as a zoologist, I should mention that in some ways it would have been better to leave him for the coyotes and hawks. They need to eat to after all. Perhaps it might have been kindest to kill him by the side of the road, but I didn’t know at that time how badly he was injured, and it’s probably not even legal anyway.
So we tried our best, and the house & barn got cleaned, and the food got cooked, but the dogs never got brushed. And, of course, I had planned to do a good grooming of the dogs on Saturday, but it never got done. Heaven only knows what the vet students thought. Ah well, what’s more important, an injured turkey or groomed dogs? So here’s to Tom Turkey, who made it through the winter but not the spring. The cycle of life… and so it goes.
Here’s a photo of Tom before he was euthanized; A handsome lad he was:
Jen says
I don’t know what I would have done, had I see this turkey, largely becuase I don’t know of a wildlife rehab place around me. I’m sure there is one; it pleads the case for having a smart phone, so you can look these things up (unless there’s no signal…)
I do think it’s acceptable to say “Stay” more than once, in dire situations.
Nicola says
I did a similar thing with a wallaby joey once. I ran over the mother, and the joey was ripped from her pouch. I knew the best the vets could do was put it down (it was too young for wildlife rehab), but I couldn’t leave it there to die slowly, so , yes, I picked it up, wrapped it in a coat and took it to the vets. Compassion is always a strength.
And I also have no trouble with reinforcing the stay command – especially near traffic!
Caroline McKinney says
Some of us are even more……. What is the word? A long time ago one of our cats injured a mouse. But it was not dead. I took it to the vets office. They were very nice and did not laugh at me. they suggested putting it in a bag and holding the bag over the car exhaust–as a painless kind of euthenasia. Which I did.
Dena (Izzee's Mom) says
I’m big on using, “Stay! Gooood Stay!” in those situations. It’s probably cheating, but I figure it doesn’t really count as a double command, because the second one is praise, right?
And I say good for you and Jim, for trying to help where you could.
(And I’d like a piece of that pie, please.)
em says
Poor Tom. Those situations are always so hard. The impulse to help is so strong, even when I’m intellectually certain that it is best to leave well enough alone, it breaks my heart to do so. In a case like Tom’s, where there is some doubt, I’d likely have done the same thing. Years ago, my mother and I saw an injured coyote from the road, limping badly but moving along at a good clip. It was just so doglike, not trying to help felt deeply, terribly wrong, even though we knew perfectly well that a) we’d never catch it and b) it was totally unsafe to handle if we did. It was awful.
When I see a squirrel still alive in the road with a broken spine, I know the kindest and safest thing to do is to hit it again, but it takes every ounce of my resolve and goes against every instinct. On a quiet road, I will stop and move it off the road, but on a busy highway, it isn’t always possible, and I can’t stand the thought of it dying over the space of hours instead of seconds. I’ve never had to try to manage wildlife in the car, thank goodness, but I’ve called the police to come and waited for them to finish a fatally wounded deer that was struggling by the side of the road. (I’m pretty sure that euthenasia of fatally wounded animals via shotgun or shovel is, if not precisely legal, never penalized in NY state, at least. I have several friends and relatives with hunting licenses who carrry firearms in their trucks. They routinely stop to assist when other motorists have hit deer).
A couple of days ago, my softhearted husband had to use a shovel to finish a mole that Sandy caught-she’s usually brutally efficient with rodents, but this one started squealing immediately, and she dropped it and wouldn’t go near it again. I don’t encourage her hunting, but she’s blazingly quick and once she’s caught something, it generally is best to let her finish it quickly (within seconds, typically) rather than take it from her so that it can die slowly. It’s a hard thing to do, though.
Unfortunately, stepping back and allowing an incapacitated animal to die on its own is a highly adaptive predatory strategy- it makes much more sense than risking injury with an unnecessary strike- so many dogs and almost all cats will at some point present owners with the conundrum of half-killed creatures. I hate it, and there’s a reason that my poor husband had to do the deed, but I see doing my best to minimize the suffering of animals accidentally (in the sense that I try not to allow hunting behavior) caught by my pets as part of the responsibility of a person who has chosen to live with a predator. Doesn’t make it any easier, though.
Jane says
I personally have no trouble rescuing an animal who has gotten into trouble due to crossing paths with humans (e.g., hit by cars), and have done so many times. And I don’t know about others, but I find that if I reserve my use of repeated commands (“stay…stay…”) for only the most critical of situations, I am pretty much 100% assured of compliance. They hear the urgency in my voice with each word, and it’s like us hearing a fire bell go off over and over–we focus and do what we’re told.
Tamara says
I just love you Patricia McConnell. A heart of gold and a good writer to boot. Thanks for sharing.
001mum says
+ 1
and you’re brave as well ! Jim’s a good man.
follow your heart so you can sleep well at night.
& I am so thrilled ! to hear you’re just like the rest of us who (but try not to)
in a tense moment say “stay” “stay’ “stay”
sometimes I bite the back of my hand to shut myself up,while i wait for pup (no scars yet)
oh, a turkey in a crate hilarious!
Annie R says
It’s so awful when a wild bird gets hit by a car; I live in a suburban area with some rolling hills and streams running through the area, and LOTS of Canada geese that live here year-round and feed in the grass alongside the expressways in groups, and sometimes try to cross the roads and on/off ramps. If the whole group gets out there, they usually do OK, because traffic stops and then slowly goes around them. But when just one or two drift out into the road or try to cross, things get dicey. Fortunately I’ve never seen one still alive like poor Tom, because I am usually alone in the car, and these are BIG birds; I don’t know if I could do anything to help, realistically.
It was so good of you and Jim to take care of the poor guy. Poor Tootsie must have thought you’d gone crazy; and Willie too, once he figured out the turkey was not a toy for him. Sorry about your sunglasses!
chloe De Segonzac says
I took care of a farm a few yeas ago and the one creature who wanted to kill my dog was the turkey(s). Three of them patrolling the fields, waiting at the gate to go after my BC who they perceived as a predator. That and the mess they made in the chicken coop makes me not a great fan. Still I would have tried to do help. (i am a bit scared of them I have to admit!)
Laura says
Trisah, I already knew that you are a great person and a great storyteller. I want to talk about Jim – what a keeper! About 10 years ag I was playing disc golf with a friend and her boyfriend. My friend was a pretty bad disc thrower and threw her disc into the woods alongside the course. A noise came from the woods. It sounded like a kitten crying. So my friend and I followed the noise through the woods across a road and through the woods some more. We finally saw the maker of the noise – he was a little black kitten about 6 weeks at most. He cried and cried at us but when we tried to get him he would bolt. My friend’s boyfriend was up on the road and kept telling her that we should go because we weren’t going to catch “it” anyhow. I said, “I am not leaving him!” Fortunately, I had driven. He just would not stay though so they took my car “to get some tuna”. I sat down and stopped pressuring the kitten and eventually he calmed down too. I was able to swipe him up and he was thrilled to be with me. They came back with with my car (and their own) and picked us up. 10 years later I love Woodson with all of my heart. Good thing too because I have spent ~$12,000 on his emergency vet bills.
Also a coulple weeks ago my 1 year old cat Zane got his first bird. I took it from him and took it to the wildlife rescue along with a donation. People I work with made fun of me because “it was just a sparrow”. I hate it that my cats occasionally get wildlife but I don’t think it is fair for them to not enjoy the outdoors. I try to rescue anything they catch and take it to people who can help it. I am also not capable of euthanasia – wish I was.
So cheers to you and Jim! The world would be a better place if more people were like you!
Laura says
PS – She married him. I would never marry someone willing to abandon a tiny hepless kitten.
trisha says
Boy, I’m staying out of the “who one should marry” road (!!!) , but Laura I hear you about valuing empathy. Me too. And speaking of, what a lucky, lucky boy Woodson is… send us a picture on Facebook.
JJ says
Trisha, Thank you so much for repeating this story here. While it had something of a sad ending, it is a feel-good story for me to know that people can still be compassionate.
JJ says
On the topic of repeating commands. I finally got around to watching your second edition video of Both Ends Of the Leash. As usual I loved it. (And thanks for not making me cry at the end this time.)
Once again, you write a blog post that is related to a question I had about your video. On the video, you talk about, “Why do humans repeat commands so much?” Then, one day you got the answer because you saw (I don’t remember exactly which primate) chimps? going “ooh ooh ooh”. And didn’t that just sound exactly like a human?
Upon hearing this, I thought, “Wow, cool observation.” But then later, I thought, “Hey, that was sneaking. She never truly answer the question!” We may have an idea on the origins of our verbal repeating behavior (inherited from our ancestors), but we still don’t know *why*. Ie: *why* do the chimps and humans incessantly repeat ourselves?
I’ve given it a lot of thought, and I came up with my own theories that I realized that I feel pretty strongly about. But of course, they are just theories. I wonder if any research has been done on this topic or if it is still quite the open question.
I was thinking of posting this question on your previous cognitive research post, but I decided it fit better with this post.
Thanks for all the great thoughts, even if we don’t have all the answers.
Marianna says
Thank you for letting us know there is a sale. I love a sale and love to know about them. I am always thankful for husbands that don’t eye roll and put animals first. That is why I married mine.
In the end, we do the best we can. I think Tom thanks you too.
trisha says
Thanks JJ for an idea for a blog! There is more to say about this issue, and I think that several comments are about my brief note about repeating “Stay” are reminders of the many issues related to acoustic communication. I will indeed delve into it more soon.
Heather Alicia says
Life is intense for many in a place like Guatemala. For us, witnessing the life of the street dogs can be heartbreaking. Here’s a little story my beautiful husband shared about our recent encounter with an injury, euthanasia and many tears. http://projectsomos.org/2012/03/nameless-innocents.html
trisha says
Heather: What a beautiful piece your husband wrote, and what a wonderful thing you did. Thanks for spreading the love…
Mary says
Heather: wow – thanks for sharing.
wendy says
A similar story Only on a very quiet road in WI ..Two baby skunks probably 4-5 weeks old all furry and afraid…clinging to their smashed dead mother.sad.We had our sweet Malamute Joy in plastic sided crate. It was a no brainer for my partner and me. We wrapped them in a sweatshirt and put Joy in the front w/us..They were just adoreaBle. Kept them overnight then to a vet who called the DNR and they took them. Unsure of the outcome but the reminder lingered in the crate till peroxide and tomato juice treatments. Nothing like a partner who gets it.Yay! Jim. Good work Trisha…and thanks for sale reminder
Laura says
I got on Facebook to try to post a picture of Woody but I can’t figure it out. I only see where to write something but not where to attach a picture. I have a cute pic of Woody wearing a cone and snuggled up to Cheyenne (BC). Woody had pancreatitis at 2, the year of pee (3 blockages in less than a year) resulting in a PU (gender reassignment) surgery, pneumonia and his last emergency visit was for bladder stones and a bacterial infection. So that is the ~$12,000 just at the emegency/specialty vet. And I thankful every day for finding that little black kitten. He is so good.
It is probably wise to stay out of the “who one should marry” road but I am quite sure that you would not be with a man at all who would abandon a tiny helpless kitten!
Mouna says
We’ve rescued a number of roadside injured animals over the years: mostly birds, and a joey who was still hairless in his mom’s pouch, but managed to survive into adult age, I’m happy to say. But one of the most difficult and heartbreaking situations happened a few years ago, when, driving on an unsealed country road in Western Australia, I accidentally ran over a tiger snake (the sun was in my face as I was driving, and his profile was too low on the road for me to be able to see him in time). We stopped immediately, and we saw that his jaw was smashed: this was a snake that wouldn’t be able to hunt the tiniest frog any more, but it was still alive, wriggling like mad, and probably in excruciating pain… I was more than 150km from any possible vet, and I was certainly not going to pick up an injured deadly snake and put him in a box to be euthanized, and risk being “euthanized” too in the process… So I did the most humane thing I could think of: I drove back over that poor snake and managed to crush his head completely, crying my eyes out while I was doing that and for the next half hour (my husband took over the driving after that). I hope I did the right thing. I consoled myself with the thought that I saved the snake from a prolonged and painful death, and I that a few local frogs probably had a welcome reprieve, but was it a horrible thing to do and I hope I’ll never have to make a similar decision again…
trisha says
Mouna: Greater love hath no woman. You absolutely did the right thing to euthanize the snake (that is what you did after all: kill it to save it from suffering horribly for no purpose other than to prolong its death). I too have done the same to a variety of animals, from mice to possums. My worst encounter was a deer who had been hit on the road right in front of my farmhouse and mortally wounded. It appeared to be suffering terribly, but a passer by informed me it was illegal to kill it (lest people began to hit deer on purpose, and then kill them for their meat I suppose). We had to wait for the sheriff to come, but after several phone calls, in which I alternated between pitiful begging and using the low voice of authority and sprinkling in “This is Dr. McConnell from the Zoology Dept. of the University” shamelessly, the sheriff’s office finally gave us permission to kill it ourselves. Not fun, not fun at all, but so much better than letting it suffer so. The truth is it’s tough out there: I stress that to my UW students all semester, and a “natural life” isn’t all a Disney movie. I think farming and raising sheep helps me be aware of how close life and death really are to each other.