The Pukeko Tragedy

A Pukeko

I work as a part-time nanny for a family with three children. They live on a large farm property where wild birds can usual be seen from the winding driveway.

Yesterday as I was driving the kids home, they spotted three Pukekos at the edge of the drive and pointed out that one was hurt. I decided to go after it to see what was wrong.

The two healthy Pukekos ran off in one direction while the other limped slowly away. I could follow him by the trembling of plants over his head.

I caught him to a chorus of protests from him and questions from the children. He wailed pitifully as I tucked him against my side for a better look at his leg. It was severely broken and the bone was protruding from the leg. There was some nasty swelling above the injury too.

I looked up to see the children's father watching from the house and I asked them to get me a towel or soft cloth to wrap the bird in.

I walked the rest of the way to the house to find that the dad had brought out a crate and the children a towel.

I had begun to stroke the bird's back and neck and speak to him in a calm voice. He settled down and just looked at me with his red eyes.

I promised the kids I would take him to a vet and after I loaded the crate in my car I tried calling the Willowbank wildlife park. I couldn't get through but I remembered there was a vet on the way to my house. Since we were in the country I thought they might deal with wild animals too.

The receptionist at the vet was very nice but she suggested what I was most afraid of; euthanasia.

I said if there was any way the leg could be set and bound I would want to try that first. She offered to get a vet to come and take a look.

A tall young woman came out next and we discussed the injury. I knew what she was going to say but she offered to take a look anyway.

Her assistant brought a towel and the vet reached in to pull out the bird who protested weakly.

"He's skin and bones," she said. "This injury isn't new."

It was clear that the animal was suffering and if it had been left in the wild it would have slowly starved to death. I knew the kindest thing for it would be putting it to sleep but I was still sad.

I stroked its neck one last time and said I was sorry.

The vet and her assistant were very kind and sympathetic. The vet assured me it would be painless and quick so I let them have the broken bird.

For the rest of the day I felt a lingering sadness although I tried to think about the bird not being in pain and suffering.

It didn't really help much.