Free Vet Among the Pigeons by Gillian Hick Page B

special permit. I wasn’t sure exactly who in the Department was responsible and I was put on hold a few times, and passed from one office to another. I was eventually put on to a severe-sounding woman who told me that the office in question could not be contacted at present and she was dealing with the enquiries.
    I briefly explained the situation.
    ‘Well, if you have the appropriate licence for keeping a bird in captivity there should be no problem,’ she rapped back.
    ‘That’s exactly why I’m ringing you,’ I continued, patiently. ‘The bird was brought in over the weekend, after your offices were closed. I’m trying to find out how I can get a licence now or who I can pass the bird on to.’
    ‘Well, the Department rules clearly state that you need to have a permit to keep a bird of prey.’
    ‘Yes, I am aware of that,’ I explained, feeling slightly less patient. ‘That’s exactly why I’m ringing you.’
    ‘But that’s no good now. You have to get the permit before you get the bird,’ she continued in her official voice. ‘You could end up in deep water over this one,’ she advised me gravely.
    ‘Excuse me,’ I carried on, becoming increasingly exacerbated , ‘what was I supposed to do? Leave the bird in the forest for the long weekend and hope it wouldn’t die in the time it would take you to process the licence?’
    ‘Well, all I know is that the regulations state that –’
    ‘I know what the regulations state,’ I snapped. ‘Now, would you mind telling me how I can go about getting the appropriate licence?’
    ‘All I know,’ she repeated, ‘is that you can’t keep a bird of prey without a licence.’
    ‘Right! Fine so! I’ll dump it back out in the forest and let it die. At least that way we’ll all be happy that we haven’t breached any Department regulations,’ and I slammed down the phone.
    ‘Relax the head,’ laughed Sean, as I fumed at the stupidity of it all. ‘Sure, what are they going to do? Come out and take it off you? They would be scared of their lives of a buzzard. Tell her to come and take it if she wants it,’ and we both burst out laughing at the image of her arriving out in an office suit and high heels to seize the patient!
    That evening, I sent an e-mail to the Department of Agriculture informing them that we were treating a bird of prey and inviting them to take charge of it. We’re still waiting …
    Meanwhile, the buzzard, while gaining strength, was still semi-paralysed and showed no inclination to eat without us force-feeding him. He clearly wasn’t impressed withour intervention, but we managed to stomach-tube him twice daily and over the next few days his weight levelled out. By the end of the week, he was able to lift himself up and I gladly left it to Sean to handle the powerful bird while I administered to it! On the following Sunday, he took his first mouse, gobbling it greedily, and on the Monday morning, Sean almost didn’t make it out of the pen after feeding him. The great bird stretched his wings to full span and, shrieking angrily, flew at the door just as Sean bolted it from the outside. For another two days we threw in his food, injected with his medication, and finally it was time to release him.
    We met early on the Wednesday morning, and with a lot more skill than I would ever have, Sean managed to capture the bird while I ran in with the bag. Once he was firmly secured, we bundled him into the back of the van and drove to the woods. The dawn was just breaking on this magical morning and we were almost deafened by the volume of the dawn chorus as we unloaded our patient. He struggled violently as we carried him to the edge of the forest where he had been found. Quickly, Sean untied the strings and just as we were about to undo the final body string, a shrill shriek sounded out from above us. Through the dim light we saw the mate high up in the trees as she continued to scream in anger at us. By now, our patient was replying in