When Worlds Collide

Very late on Sunday night, while driving my brother back to the University of Delaware (in Newark), a very large owl swooped down low, flying on the right side of my car, and I hit him. I never saw him swooping in -- my brother spotted him at the very last second, and then we both heard the horrible thud. I was sure he was dead and probably flung into the dark embankments along the pitch-black, narrow, and curvy Route 896, but we went back and found him, luckily alive and on one of the few wide shoulders of the road -- so we were able to pull over and place him in the car. I called ORCA (the Organization for Responsible Care of Animals), who told me to put the owl in a box and bring him back to Lancaster, where a wildlife rehabilitator would take him in the morning.

The owl spent the night in a box in my mom's bathtub (her cats are more low-key than mine -- mine would have been yowling and banging on the bathroom door all night), and ORCA did come to pick him up Monday morning. He had gone from lying in the box to sitting up, his big orange eyes staring straight ahead, so I was hopeful that his injuries were minor or would be able to be healed.

Later in the day, the wildlife rehabilitator, a raptor specialist affiliated with the Bird Refuge of York, returned my call (I'd left a message asking for an update, even if it was bad news). She told me the owl was still sitting in his cage, getting anti-inflammatories and fluids, and that she wasn't surprised he hadn't tried to fly up to a perch yet. She said he had no fractures she could find, and that he'd either recover, or if he had major internal injuries, he'd be gone in a couple of days, succumbing to whatever might be lurking in his head or body from the impact with my car. So we wait.

I can't tell you how awful I feel about hitting him. I know I didn't even see him, and I know my hesitation to go back and find what I assumed would be his shredded body along side the road is understandable, but I just hate that my big stupid car and I were on the road and got in his way. Most people would think he got in my way, that he was the one swooping onto the road when a car was coming and should have "known better," or that he's "just an owl." I've heard similar statements from people when accidents involving everything from deer to cats to squirrels have been discussed, so I know how many people think in these situations.

I say that we're the ones who are in the way and that we should know better. No, I can't spot every set of glowing eyes along the road at night, but I can be more vigilant. I can drive the speed limit (or below it, on roads like 896 that are posted at too high a speed limit for the conditions), and I can keep supplies for a possible collision (box, flashlight, blankets, gloves) in my car. I can avoid roads that have a lot of wildlife along them at night, if possible, and I can warn others to take these precautions, too.

If you think vigilance won't work, consider that after my collision with the owl, I saw 2 deer, a ground hog, 3 foxes, and then once back in Lancaster City, 2 cats running along and in the road. The state of hyper-attentiveness that the collision placed me in allowed me to see these creatures and to slow down (and in the case of the cats, to stop and yell "Out of the street, kitties!" at them) and prevent another tragedy. Of course, my brother, Joshua, who has an excellent sense of humor, commented that "Hey, we've still got lots of room in the car, if you hit anything else" -- when we spotted the deer. It was a good tension-breaker, because we were both feeling awful about the owl.

Anyway, I'll post whatever news I get about the owl as soon as I have it, and I ask each of you reading this to please think of the owl and ask the universe, God, St. Francis -- whomever you tend to speak to about these things -- to help him heal and fly up to that perch and then one day soon, fly back into the wild, where he belongs. And please keep your eyes peeled, especially at night, for creatures along the roads. Because they're not in the way, WE are.