The Adventures of being a Volunteer Driver

September 27, 2018 marks the end of my fourth year as a volunteer driver with TWC. Or is it better to say the beginning of my 5th year? What a ride it has been, so many animals (mostly birds) being driven to and from the centre. I still keep track of everything that I do, and list all the species I've helped.

Merry overlooking my notes.

I thought about listing all the species but I won't. I think I have something far more interesting for this blog, something many of you probably wouldn't think about. This is about my encounters with the general public when doing these drives.

Before we get into it here, I feel I should post some sort of disclosure. This is about me, my encounters with people. While it is because of my volunteer work with TWC, it has nothing to do with the centre or anyone else. I am in no way making fun of anyone here. People are quirky. People can be weird. What I might see as weird, someone else may not. I hope the minds of the readers are open enough to see that this is just true retelling of some of my "adventures".

So get comfy now and take a literal walk in my shoes as a volunteer driver.

Most times I will put on one of my TWC t-shirts when I go out. I am proud to be a volunteer, helping wildlife, and carry myself professionally even in some trying situations. I figure it's also good when I'm coming to someone's home for the animal, that they see the shirt and know why I am there, not having to question who this long haired guy is walking up their driveway.

There have been some comical moments with people. Once I picked up an unwell Squirrel at house in south Etobicoke. There was an elderly Italian lady home and her use of the English language was not the best. She did manage to give me one full sentence that I understood, and had a laugh about... "You have'a nice'a hair for a boy!"

Another time I was picking up a Pigeon in North York. I call the guy who I was to meet. The one line I remember from that phone call is "you'll have to wait a few minutes while I empty my bowels". Alrighty then! Thanks for the heads up. I will be sure not to shake your hand.

Most people do not converse with me much aside from the animal's situation. Most are happy to see the creature going to the centre to get the help it needs. I'm also sure these people are happy to have the animal now gone, so they can carry on with their day. But there are the few who do ask me the questions. Some think I am staff. They wonder how much I get paid for this job. Their eyes pop out when I tell them I am a volunteer driver. I do this in my spare time, usually before I start work. I don't get paid for this. The fuel is on me too.

Only once where I've had this conversation with people did one guy say and do something more than go "oh wow!" It was when I picked up an Eastern Screech Owl in the Bathurst and Dupont area (the Owl was hit by a car by the looks of things). The man opened up his wallet and pulled out a $10 bill. He said he wanted me to have this, even though it wasn't much. He was thankful to know there are people who volunteered like this, helping animals, plus helping people who could not get to the centre. He asked me to go get myself some lunch before going to work that afternoon. Hell, he even asked me to promise him that I would do that and NOT give it to the centre. I did make that promise to him as I took the bill, but I ended up breaking it when I got back to TWC. I'm by no means a wealthy person and ten bucks would certainly be a welcoming thing, going to my weekly coffee fund; but I put it in TWC's donation box. I know the money goes towards all the animals, but I told myself it's for this Owl.

There are infuriating moments with the general public. I've had a few unpleasant encounters with off leash dog walkers when I have been trying to release birds. I've asked people to please leash their dogs or take them to another area so I can set the birds free; like maybe take them to the designated off leash areas. Some oblige. Some get down right rude about it and I've been told to fuck off a couple times over the years. I once actually packed up the birds and moved us all to another nearby park because the one we were at was crazy with unruly dogs and their owners. I'm sure the further movement before freedom is stressful for the birds but far better than flying out free into the face of a dog or two. Not all release birds fly high or far initially upon release.

I once had a Red-tailed Hawk I was releasing back to her territory near Fort York. She HAD to go here, this was her home. One lady wouldn't leave the area with her off leash dog, even after my polite asking her to do so, explaining the situation. I gave her a couple options... to either leash the dog, stand back and watch the show OR move along to another area. She said it was her park and she had business to tend to, which is more like "doggy business" waiting for her's to have a shit. Ugh! It was a lengthy wait for her to finally leave the area. I know my patience was wearing thin.

Another time I picked up a Pigeon from an Etobicoke home. This Pigeon was REALLY REALLY SICK. I can never remember the name of the virus that they can contract but it's bad. I've seen it once with a bird here at home. Early stages, the bird would appear to be intoxicated. The one here walked and would suddenly fall forward on it's face, like it just tripped on a stone. To my understanding, there is no cure. The bird wasn't here for very long that day, and I saw it the next for a brief spell too. Then it disappeared.

Well, back to this Pigeon I was picking up. It was way beyond that stage. The bird couldn't walk, so forget about flying. It could not even raise it's head from the ground. I remember looking at it and thinking it's neck looked like it was broken. My heart sank.

It was after the conversation I had with these people that I saw red and it took every fibre of my being to not say anything. Remember, we want people to want to like and want to help wildlife. What happened here is these people had held on to this bird for over one week. Not in the house, but in their backyard. It couldn't fly. They had a box outside which the bird spent much of it's time in. I guess these people thought they were doing a good thing by keeping it here, ensuring it had food, water and shelter. The one woman told me it was looking a lot better. I knew she was lying. It's obvious this bird was getting sicker by the day and they felt it was time to do something about it since they couldn't help him. The big bag full of towels, gloves, pedialytes and a cheque to the centre proved their guilt... to me anyway. I managed to stay polite and positive. I did ask of them to please not hold onto an animal this long if they ever encounter this again. We are not veterinarians. I never followed up on this case but I know I left the centre without a doubt that Pigeon finally received a merciful end to his life. A head shaking story but I try to remind myself that someone gave a shit about a Pigeon.

I hope some of you are still reading along here despite the length and lack of photos. I have one more tale to tell, sure there are more, but this one I want to end the blog with.

November 2017 I picked up an injured Ring-billed Gull. I arrived at the address, park the truck and step out. There's a woman waiting for me up the driveway. I'm walking towards her. I say "hello" and even though I am certain she knows why I am there, I announce it anyway... especially since she is frozen and looks like she just saw a ghost.

Suddenly she blurts out "holy shit!" Now I am frozen in my tracks. I ask her if everything is alright. She says "you look just like my ex-husband!" I'm thinking to myself "uh oh!"

The conversation quickly turns to everything about the Gull, which is in her shed, at the back of her yard. She leads me through the gate and as I walk through her yard, I find myself surrounded by numerous horrific mannequins, some bloodied, some missing body parts. I remind myself that Halloween was just over a week ago. Phew!

I get the Gull and start to make my way back to the truck. And here it came... the story about her ex. The jist of it is he was a musician and left her a few years back to be just that, a musician, and to not be tied down. As she told me all about everything from when he left, to their contact through the years after, and her feelings, she started to cry. She told me more and even said "I don't know why I am telling you these things."

For a guy like me, who is rather private, border line introverted, I am feeling uncomfortable now. I'm no Dr. Phil. What the hell do I say? I keep moving along, making my way to the truck with the large cardboard box we had the Gull in. I listened to her as we walked. My brain is going a thousand miles an hour, trying to think of something comforting to say to this sad soul. I told her life is too short to waste on a person who does not want to be with you. I know I threw in about my own life, being happily married and can't fathom that happening to Angie and I. In my head, it was a defense move, a shield. This person was sad and probably lonely. I've had people who have tried to latch on to me because I was kind. Have you ever been nice to a person, a stranger, and suddenly it seems like they think there was an automatic opening for them to come into your life? They say us Virgos are over-thinkers, as are introverts, which may be true, but sometimes it can be a good thing.

I am at the truck now. I get the Gull inside. She was still talking and again said "I don't know why I am telling you everything".

How do I end this? Just cut her off, thank her for helping the bird and be on my way? I am not good with being rude to someone who does not deserve it. Give her a hug (because she really looked like she needed one from someone, anyone, right now)? NO, remember the shielding! For whatever reason I asked her what she would do if she saw her ex standing on her driveway. Her reply was "I would hug him and never let go". I suggested she try to make that happen then. In the back of my mind, I had visions of a missing person case coming up, some long haired musician type. Finally something came to my mind about what to say... "well, thank you for helping this Gull, but I need to get him to the centre as being in this box, listening to our voices is really stressful". She thanked me for coming to get him and as I backed out of her driveway, I could see her running to the house, the tears starting once again, and she was covering her face. In the end, this Gull got a second chance at a wild life. I do hope that lady found some peace, and maybe a little happiness.

Re-telling of this last tale just reminded me of another Dr. Phil scenario where I picked up a Kinglet from a woman who lived a couple blocks from our home. It was an after work meeting with her, meaning about 11 pm. She gave me this big cardboard box and I just assumed the tiny bird was inside. I wasn't going to open it out there in the dark, and risk it hopping out. I get home to find that the box was empty. I called her back to inform her of my discovery. Well, the next 45 minutes I was on the phone with her about her life and how she fucks everything up, no matter what good she does, it all comes back negatively. Time she could have spent looking for this bird. I declined returning to her condo the next evening after she found it almost 24 hours later, even for the sake of the bird. Someone else drove down to get it, and sadly the bird died in their car on the way back to the centre. For the sake of that person, it was probably a good thing the bird did not die in her home.

So, what'cha think? Did this blog open your eyes to how much more can go on with being a volunteer driver? The stories and encounters aren't constant, but I just never know what might happen with my next drive.

Maybe you remember a blog I did about an intoxicated couple who had an injured Red-tailed Hawk in their sun room? Oh the memories!