08/06/08

Well. That was an adventure.

When I suggested that my Mum and I take a walk around the park, I didn't think she'd end up standing knee-deep in the lake trying to catch a moorhen in a fishing net. Of course, maybe I should've been prepared for it. After all, on Wednesday I was standing thigh-deep in the lake trying to catch a moorhen with my bare hands, so it wasn't like there wasn't a precedent. But still.

To start at the beginning ... there were these moorhens. I walk round my local park pretty much every day, and had been watching two adults raise a family of three chicks. They were doing quite well - the chicks are now about half grown I think. Then, on Tuesday, I found on of the adults hoping around on the path. I couldn't work out what was the matter with it, but finally I spotted that its legs were tied together with fishing line.

It was fairly horrific, because I knew there was very little chance of it surviving like that - and having seen it every day for a couple of months now ... well, it's like going into your friendly local shop and finding your familiar local shop keeper unconscious behind the counter. Except that, being a human (and unconscious) he'd probably let you help him rather than running away in terror. It's so frustrating trying to help animals. You just want to tell them 'Look, I have scissors! That's a good thing! Stay still!', but being animals they have a nasty habit of not being able to understand a damn word you say.

To cut a long story short ... I phoned the RSPCA, and they couldn't catch it. Then I got in the lake, and I couldn't catch it. Then I pretty much gave up. But I told my parents about it when they came to visit.

Then, we went for a walk this evening and there it was. Sitting on the bank.

But we couldn't catch it.

Then, this woman came along and asked us what we'd lost. So we explained. And she went and got a net, some gloves, some scissors and some corn. And finally, my Mum caught it - which, I've got to say, I was seriously impressed by. So, she held it still and I managed to cut the line and get a lot of it untangled from its legs, and then dragged in a further two passers-by as it turned out a fishing hook was actually stuck in its leg - so this other guy helped us get that out.

In the end, we went off to the woman's bunglelow and I got the rest of the line off with tweezers, pincers, scissors and a needle. I did get pecked a few times (as did my Mum) but we took that as a good sign that it was still feisty. Of course, it could well still die; it was very weak and its cry sounded odd. I think it will definitely lose a toe at least. But it has a chance now, which it didn't have before.

We let it go in the lake. Unsurprisingly, it was in quite a hurry to get away from us.

We rounded off the evening by helping the lady release moths, which she had collected in jars for surveying purposes. Apparently, this was the reason she had come to the park in the first place.