Herman's Story

Meet Herman. Herman was found in my favorite bakery earlier this October. Wanting "pigeon ew" out of my bakery, I chased him back into the street. That's when I saw that he had a broken wing and foot to match. I felt for the little guy, but again, ew.

I hate birds as much as anyone else. Piegons especially. I also hate watching things suffer and feeling that there's nothing I can do about it. I do, however, love finding things that challenge my ignorance about the two latter, while also finding that humanity won't always let you down.

About a week after I'd first spotted the pigeon (whom I have lovingly named Herman), NYC temperatures dove astonishingly low for the time of year. During a chilled torrential downpour, he was spotted wing-drag limping in front of my work, with apparent difficulty of finding shelter, warmth and food. It pulled my heart-strings and I thought "maybe he'll die tonight and I can stop feeling sorry for him". Because that's what good people think. We all want to be ignorant to resolutions of things we can't change or be bothered with finding a way to change.

I started doing a bit of research online about resources for wild animal rehabilitation. Wanting to find a place for Herman to go before I was the captor of an NYC pidge, I posted on a wild bird forum and found my email inbox almost immediately flooded with resources (and when I say flooded, I mean 5 responses - about 5 more people gave a shit than I thought would). A man named Dan called me almost immediately and gave me the number for a place called "The Wild Bird Fund" (www.wildbirdfund.com). He referred me to a woman named Rita, who after a long-winded "what-the-fuck-am-I-doing-with-a-pigeon" descriptive message, returned my call almost immediately and said she had time to view him.

I made an appointment for the following Monday and had to find a way to care for him for the next 48 hours. For 48 hours he lived in a Coors Light box in my closet - safe from Tarzan (my kitteh'z) instincts. It was dark, dank and lonely in my closet. I imagined him longingly staring through the door slats, journaling word by word Anne Frank style, hoping this little fucker will win a Pulitzer and I can ride his tail feathers to the top. WEEEE!

I fed him wild bird seed and changed his Coors Light box liner twice a day. The following Monday, Herman and I hopped on the subway for our hour long ride to the Upper West Side, where Rita works at the Animal General. After a short exam, Rita explained to me that Herman was likely only 8-10 weeks old, having not even grown his tail feathers yet (guess I won't be riding them to the top anytime soon). He had probably been hit by a bike, the impact breaking his wing and foot. She told me that his wing had healed itself well, while not completely enough to fly and he may never fly again. Wings need to be reset within 48 hours of a break to ensure full rehabilitation. She then explained that she was actually glad I didn't bring him in earlier, as she would have suggested euthanization due to his age and the expected extreme pain of a rehab. Herman is a tough little guy, healed himself well and has hopes of surviving now. Any earlier rescue attempt might not have given him the chance to prove his survival skills.

After explaining to her that I was not going to be able to foster him during his rehabilitation she offered to house him in the hospital for a few days. She had spoken to Dan the Pigeon Man who had originally referred me to Rita, and he had offered to foster and rehabilitate Herman. If his wing is able to repair itself enough to fly again, Dan will call me to pick him up and take him back to the place that I'd found him (as pigeons form monogomous relationships and stay with their families - Awww). If he wasn't able to regain his ability to fly, Dan offered to sponsor his entry to the Berkshire Conservatory - a home for disabled wild birds in upstate NY. The cost of admissions is $360 and Dan offered to pay the cost in full.

I nearly burst into tears in the vet's office, so overwhelmed with the good and generosity of people and the ability to feel powerful and positive in the face of discouragement. I'll have to remember that when I feel like something cannot be accomplished.

I wouldn't say I'm so pigeon-tickled that I'm one loaf of bread and a grocery cart away from sitting on the steps of a Public Library, letting pigeons shit in my hand, but these organizations are phenomenal and they are changing the world one Herman (scratch that), one Delores at a time.