When our big group was leaving the restaurant last night, I was flagged down by the folks at the next two tables. Turns out half my old volleyball team was there; Ru, her husband Le, and his brother Fr. Along with other kin and co-workers. Ru asked if I had released any eagles this year.

No, and I only had two eagle fatalities that I could remember this winter, both hit on the Interstate. They keep trying to live off of roadkills, and take just a little too long to get airborne.

Eagles are a special subject for Ru and I. Three or four winters ago I got a call from a train crew that they had hit an eagle feeding on a dead deer by the tracks. I found and removed the deer, and then picked up the eagle a short distance away. The wing was broken, but the injury was a broken bone low on the wing (usually easier to heal) rather than a broken wing joint (difficult to heal). Otherwise the eagle was fine, and in good spirits.

Now golden eagles are surprisingly easy to handle. First off, they are normally on top of the food chain, and seem rather dumbfounded that anything would even consider grabbing ahold of them. Second, their main weapons are their talons. Grab their feet and there is almost never any more struggle or danger. I've never had one attack with the beak (now great-horned owls, that's a different story).

I loaded the eagle into the pet carrier. You have to use the large carrier with eagles... they need room to stand and turn around. Takes up 2/3rds the cab of the truck. Called ahead to the rehab folks with the Audubon Society, and then headed out for the two hour drive. On the way through town I remembered how excited Ru had gotten when they had made the same drive a week or two earlier and had seen three eagles roosting on fenceposts along the road. Seemed like all she could talk about through the volleyball game. This otherwise healthy eagle seemed the perfect opportunity.

I stopped by the bank where Ru works, marched into her office and asked if she wanted to see an eagle close up. There was disbelief at first, but the answer was yes. The hell with bank business.

As sad as it may seem, you tend to get jaded with really special things when they happen over and over. Until I saw the look in Ru's eyes, I had forgotten what a privilege it is to actually be able to see and handle an eagle so close.

One of the bank managers came by as we were admiring the eagle in my truck, and sneeringly dared Ru to put her hand in the cage with the fierce predator. I couldn't resist. I opened the cage door, reached in to stroke the unrestrained eagle's back and invited Ru to do the same. She didn't hesitate.

The chagrined manager trotted inside to tend his financial business, and I waited for Ru to get her fill of touching a real, live eagle. The eagle was just mildly curious, turning its head back and cocking it sideways to see what was going on, but made no aggressive or fearful moves. I don't know how long I waited.

Another one of those special moments.

As with orphaned wildlife, I don't normally ask the Audubon folks about the fate of animals I bring to them. Too often the news is not good. Better to not know, and they prefer not to have to dwell on it either. With them, each loss hurts. But in this case, I didn't have to ask. They called me the following spring and asked if I could please come pick up the eagle and take it back and release it where I got it. They had other healed birds they needed to release elsewhere in the state.

You betcha.