Nevermore
Ready by Suzanne Akerman, woman's voice
I came to the decision to release Vader the raven over time. During our first meetings, we'd discussed whether to ease the burden of caring for the animals by euthanizing some of them. I don't mind that nearly my entire day is spent doing animal husbandry, or that my spare minutes are spent researching and investigating how to better care for animals I am less familiar with. The real issue was whether we could maintain the high standard of living the animals deserved. In the end we euthanized none of them.
Vader's life was one that any animal and most humans would appreciate. The 22-year-old raven received meals of fruits, vegetables, nuts and meats in his bedroom, chatted amiably with neighbors during the day and slept in the cozy crux of tree limbs at night.
When I would go in to clean his enclosure and drop off his food though, I considered how enriching it would be if he could do some of his own foraging. As a hand-raised bird who knew me well, he took immediately to a new daily routine where I attached a long lease to his ankles with jesses and let him come with me as I cleaned the other birds' enclosures. He hopped excitedly when he heard me unlocking the building each morning, clucking and cordially asking, "How are ya?" I always replied, "I'm well thank you. And yourself?"
I started letting Vader poke around in the fallen leaves and sit in the lower boughs of trees. Eventually, I made him a longer leash, and then yesterday I just let him go. I opened his enclosure to "How are ya?" as usual and took him with me for our usual morning cleaning, but when it was time for me to move on, I walked Vader to his enclosure and left the door wide open. Ravens are native to Washington, there's plenty of food sources... It just seemed like he would do fine on his own.
Today I approached the bird mews with trepidation, unsure of what I'd find. I peeked into Vader's enclosure, half expecting him to be see him still sitting in the crux of his tree limbs. He wasn't there. I wasn't sure if this was good or bad. Was Vader lost, unable to find his way to his enclosure? Was he mobbed by crows and now laying injured somewhere? Or was he cleverly picking through the compost pile for choice goodies, exercising his wings and spying on us from rooftops?
After finishing my morning tasks I passed Vader's open door one last time and posed the perfunctory, "How are ya?" to the empty space.
"I'm well thank you," came the reply. I turned to the willow sapling beside the building and found Vader perched comfortably with a full crop, evidence he'd eaten a healthy breakfast. "And yourself?" he asked me.
"Great." I answered. "Really great."
