Many times our family takes in strays, or as we call them, "homeless Americans down on their luck". We like to give them a foster home until they are back on their feet and able to find a forever place to live. We've helped Boxers, Jack Russells, Schnauzers and even a cockatiel. It's a great feeling to help another animal and make a difference.
Our latest foster, however, really has me stumped. It's not a cat or dog. It's not even a pet, but you know Mom and Dad. They can't turn away an animal in need.
This guy was found by two little ladies picking up pecans. He had a steel trap on his leg. They scooped him up into a bucket and called the game warden, who said to bring him to us. Fortunately his leg wasn't broken, just skinned and bruised. With a little ointment rubbed on it, he'll be good as new.
Mom has mislaid her bird book, but she thinks it's a Cooper's hawk, so we're calling him Cooper for the moment. Doesn't he have a very indignant look on his face? It's like, "Now how did I get myself into this mess?"
Cooper will be leaving us this afternoon. We think he's fit to fly again. Mom says not to expect to see or hear from Cooper after he takes off as they rarely look back once they're airborn.
And they never write or call (sigh).