Enoch Martin

Paddling with a friend across Howe Sound in my canoe, I heard a commotion near a small, rocky point jutting up out of the sea. Turning in that direction, I noticed the mass of seagulls hovering above the islet, periodically dive-bombing something down on the rocks. When we got closer, I heard what had drawn their attention. Terrified squawks and squeals rang out from a little lump running back and forth on the island.  Beaching the canoe, I clambered out to find out what’s going on. The seagulls in the air were mercilessly attacking a small, bloody gull huddled on the ground. I could tell it was only a baby, as this little glaucous-winged gull was just developing it’s pinfeathers- I couldn’t just leave it alone. Each time an older gull swooped down to peck at it’s head it would try frantically to escape, but it had nowhere to go. I knew that the fledgeling’s panicked cries would haunt me forever if I did nothing. So, chasing away the crown of gulls, I scooped up the little thing and settled back in the canoe. Burrowing it snugly in my sweater on the floor of the boat, I turned and headed for home. 

Back at the house I was building for my friend’s dad, I cleaned and warmed it up, then brought in some dog food from the truck. After it had softened in some water, I offered it to the gull and I could tell it hadn’t eaten in a long time. It was then that my Alaskan Malamute; Skeena saw us and started to get jealous- howling in gibberish at me to show her displeasure and jumping up trying to reach the bird. Eventually, once I scolded her and showed her that I was caring for this gull, she calmed down enough for some curiosity to come through. I knelt down on the floor and let her take a good look. Within a few seconds Skeena gave him a single lick on the head, and I thought it might be okay to put him down. Immediately she resumed licking his head, so I praised her for it and showed her that I was pleased.

The bird needed a name, so I started to call him Oscar. Within a few days, he had gained a lot of energy, and they were both eating out of the same dog dish. After eating, Skeena would lay down on the floor with her mouth hanging open and Oscar started to peck the bits of food from between her teeth. She didn’t seem to mind this at all, and just lay there letting him work. Because a seagull’s normal diet doesn’t usually involve dog food, I picked some tuna up at the store to try it out. Just a few seconds after I opened that first can, Oscar came running up to the door and started making up a real fuss outside. He was just going crazy cause he could smell the tuna. Heading outside with some in a dish, I hadn’t even put it down yet when Oscar started jumping up and down at my feet. The moment it was within his reach, Osar just went crazy on the fish. Looks like I’ve found him a main course. But this still didn’t stop him from sneaking over to Skeena’s bowl once in a while to snag a kibble or two. Eventually Skeena’s relationship with Oscar got to the point where she wouldn’t even let any of my friends anywhere near the little bird. She was the momma, and she licked Oscar’s head so much that no feathers could grow, he just remained bald, all the pinfeathers got licked right out.

After a month or so, I was out chopping wood for the stove when an official-looking character with aviator sunglasses came walking up my trail. Setting down the ax, I introduced myself, and taking off his shades he replied with,

“So, I hear that you’ve got a seagull here.”

“What business is that of yours?” I said.

“Well, someone reported that you’re keeping a seagull as a pet, which is illegal. You  need to turn it over or go to court.” 

I told him that I rescued it from being killed and nursed it back to health, but he just said that’s illegal and I’ve got to just let nature run its course. 

“What are you going to do with it?” I asked.

“Oh, I’m gonna take it down to Reifel Range. ” 

“You’re going to do what?! ” 

“Reifel Bird Rescue, it’s a wildlife sanctuary. ” 

I just said, “Oh. ” Relief washed over me as I realized that he wasn’t actually going to take Oscar to a rifle range. 

“So, ”  he said. “What’s it gonna be?” 

“Whatever, I’ll bring him over. ” 

So I called, “Oscar!” And seconds later he came tearing around the corner, out of the woods, kicking up dirt with each step, ending up bouncing at my feet, flapping his wings. The game warden’s jaw dropped as he looked at the little seagull that had just come running. Picking it up, I handed it to him, and that’s the last I saw of Oscar.