I am amazed how much more often people hang up on me; especially after waking me from a sound sleep.
The phone rang a little after six this morning and the woman on the other end told me her location (at least 30 minutes away). Two foxes were evidently struck by a car. One could not stand and it appeared that it’s hip was broken and the other was holding it’s front paw off the ground. The downed fox had a good deal of blood around it.
She DEMANDED that I come right away. After telling her to get back in the car so she did not get bitten, I gathered enough information to know that the fox on the ground would probably be dead in a short time. I started to explain that the other fox might not be badly injured, but in shock.
She still DEMANDED that I come and get them.
I told here that unfortunately, I really couldn’t do much as I don’t have the equipment (Or stamina) to catch an adult fox and that I have no vet who would treat them.
Before I could explain that I am only one person with limited funds and expertise, not to mention pretty basic facilities, she said some nasty things and hung up.
I picture these people violently punching the “End call” button on their cell phones, trying to express their anger and distain. She certainly sounded old enough to remember the satisfaction of slamming down a receiver to make her point.
What she doesn’t know, nor would she care, is that I have scars up and down my right arm and hand from foxes who didn’t know I was trying to help them. She doesn’t know the feeling of putting stiches in your own thumb, because if you go to a doctor, law requires that the animal be immediately killed and tested for rabies.
She also doesn’t know that even if you can get a bone set on a fox and casted, it will often chew it’s own leg off because it believes it is trapped and must escape. I don’t have access to the drugs that would knock it out or keep it calm and pain free.
She doesn’t know that that fox has a diet requiring a lot of fresh meat (or expensive specialty canned food) and that I would need to be feeding it for the rest of the winter.
She doesn’t know that it requires a small recovery pen and then a large pen where it can begin exercising the leg. Not only does this require pen space, but shoveling snow to and from the pen, heated water bowls and the risk I face every time I check the leg, remove the cast or transfer the animal. That’s a lot for one old lady who is already caring for other animals.
She doesn’t know that I would be putting a fox back into the wild (after all the time and expense), that might have a severe limp, or feel the pain of the break in the winter cold. She doesn’t know how many nights I’d lie awake and think about that fox and worry how it was doing.
She doesn’t know that I feel just as badly and even more helpless that she does that I can’t help that fox.
She also cannot understand that the more I hear the words “Well, what good are you then?” before someone hangs up the phone, the closer I get to giving up and not going through this any more.
I hope she can let go of her anger and frustration. I hope she can find the acceptance that sometimes, there really isn’t anything you can do. It’s been a long tough lesson for me to get to that point and it doesn’t get any easier each time I have to get there. It also doesn’t get any easier to let go of the words “Well, what good are you anyway” Especially at six o clock on a winter morning.