Birds and animals in our lives
A Reflection by Fred Schaeffer, OFS

The title could be that of a new book, but alas, for that I do not have the time. I've been tempted because I love animals and birds. For 25 years, 1964-1989, I've been tagging birds with numbered bands under license of Federal and State wildlife agencies. I also worked for the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service for a period of 10 years where some of my work-time was spent on birds either in tagging them and/or studying them. So what began as a serious avocation, eventually became job-related. Now that I'm blissfully retired, I am busier than ever before with my life in and with the Church.

You're going to think here's another nut - but hear me out. About ten years ago I had to visit an ATM and as I parked next to a small open-backed truck, a big crow landed on the rear part. This was not 5 feet from me. It really surprised me that the bird would come so close. It was almost as if it was intentional. Then he began to squawk but it was not the usual loud "caw, caw, caw" sounds they make. This was a low chatter almost. He or she was not alarmed at my presence at all. I've had some crows in my traps once upon a time, and they were angry. This guy wasn't. I stood there for a while, looking at him. And, told him in calming tones that I was sorry I could not understand a word. And after about 5 minutes, he took wing and disappeared. Makes one wonder what does this bird know that I have yet to learn?

My specialty in tagging (banding) birds was with raptors, hawks and owls. I spent at least 5 years, on days off, doing just that. It was very educational, a great deal of fun with an angle - I always needed to be totally "present" to what I was doing, otherwise I'd be bound to get scratched, clawed or bit. You can't hold a hawk in one hand and be in the middle of an intense conversation with someone else, without paying attention to what the hawk is ready to do - tear your hands apart. You see, most banders of hawks do not use gloves because it is impossible to extract the birds, out of special nets that are used, with gloves on.

St. Francis of Assisi talked with the birds, it is said. Maybe he just talked to the birds, as I have never read anywhere that he understood what they said to him. I used to talk to birds to calm them down, but then again - I did not understand their answer. Perhaps they were talking with each other.... But the fact remains that they do exactly what God created them for. They are not burdened by sin. Neither does your pet when he soils the floor... your pet is an animal, even though we think of them as humans, little persons. We have this knack as humans to ascribe human behavioral terms to animals... that just doesn't work. We meet a little doggie by the wayside and he or she is barking. Humans would say either -  bad dog stop making so much noise, or, sweet doggie or some such nonsense. But they may not be barking for a reason at all. They could be barking because they are just happy. Animals are perfect (by animal standards) because they are doing God's will at all times. People ask me sometimes if their pets go to heaven. Regardless what the answer is (I really don't know), the fact that we will be so totally surrounded in love with the Holy Trinity in Heaven, makes it unnecessary for our pets to be there. We will not miss them. How do I know this... I can't explain it.   

For a couple years I was working with the Florida Scrub Jay. I was color-banding them so that they could be identified as individuals in flight or at the nest, without the need to trap them again. Scrub Jays have long been my favorite birds, simply because they have a habit to alight on one's finger-tip when one offers a shelled (unsalted) peanut in the palm of the same open hand. They are so tame, particularly people-friendly, unlike almost any other species of birds; because of that and their diminishing populations they are listed as a "Protected Species." Of course as a concerned conservationist, I do not recommend that you set your kids out with a bag of peanuts where these birds are. But when a bird approaches you, please don't scare it. Whenever the birds got onto my hands I was always filled with awe - don't you think St. Francis of Assisi was looking on - I'll bet he was!

Unfortunately, where I live now I am not allowed to have any pets. And, in previous years before I retired I was in religious life and there were no pets there either, except in one Franciscan friary they had a friendly dog. When I was a teenager, I had several dogs, particularly dachshunds. Dachshunds are very smart, and if you recall these are the low-to-the ground dogs that remind one of a ‘hot dog’, but I better not say that too loudly or I'll have the dachshund owners mad at me.

My dog, “Floppy” was a trooper, he went all over the place and was happiest when he was able to roll in leaves and other debris. Since that was in a time period when we still had horse-drawn wagons (in the Netherlands), the range of debris was often offensive to the nose. Floppy was smart in getting what he wanted. On a cold winter night, that was a place in front of the hearth (stove in the living room), but we were afraid he would burn himself so we tried to keep him back. A little ritual evolved out of that. My mother always used a fairly low chair, I mean low to the ground. So Floppy used to slink under this chair, come out next to her feet and would eventually make it to a spot right in front of the stove. Of course we caught on after a while, and this became a daily ritual!

Dogs that are treated well have unlimited love for us. They deserve the same in return. They do wonders for people who are very much alone. In elder-care circles, e.g. nursing homes, it was found that the presence of dogs or cats (not both together) that could be petted, brought down high blood pressures and heart rates. I visited a buddy of mine once and he had his son's dog there, Donor. I asked why "Donor" and found out that this dog gave blood for other dogs to veterinary clinics - for transfusions. It was a fitting name for him. He was a large dog, possibly a Great Dane, he was very friendly, so we became pals. One night he accompanied me upstairs, that is to say, I had forgotten to lock the door (there was a hook for the very purpose of keeping dogs off the beds) - and I woke up ever so slightly to see the door open, and with a tremendous plop Donor ended up on this large bed, half-straddling my legs which was unpleasant because he was heavy. I managed to get most of the bed back but I didn't kick him out because I really didn't want to get up at 2 AM. The following morning, I woke up because Donor licked my face and he was smiling. Praise God! For years after that, when I called my friends, they asked if I wanted to speak to Donor... and I heard them say to the dog - Uncle Fred is on the phone.... I know, we're all a little crazy. But take it from me, besides bad breath, which some dogs have, they are really great. However, as a rule I do not wish them to share my bed. It's not good for them, either. Donor belonged to Jay, my friend Peter’s son. Peter passed away on September 5, 2024. His wife, Patty, emails me now and then. They live in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. Peter and I banded raptors together for many years. A wonderful friend. God rest his soul.

"Be still, and know that I am God. I am exalted among the nations, I am exalted in the earth!" (Ps. 46:10)

Fred Schaeffer, OFS
May 23, 2007 rev. November 19, 2024 

Based on file fe070514.htm

Index