One hour and five minutes after I got home Wednesday morning, the phone rings.

Dispatch calling, apologetically, to see if I can check a report they received of a large bird in the median of the interstate, between mileposts 226 and 227, definitely injured.

Only six miles away. Of course I'll go. Throw the pet carrier in back, load the heelers, and off we go.

Just past the 226 mile marker I see the dark lump. An eagle, sprawled dead on its back in the median. With a splattered rabbit nearby on the asphalt. The bait that sucked the eagle into harm's way.

Crossed traffic and snapped a quick picture of the carcass:

and then moved in for a closer shot of the head.

And then the nictating membrane of the eye blinked.

Ohhh, shit. It's still alive.

Now, I like eagles, but a dead one is a whole lot easier to take care of than one that's hurt. I grab the feet and scoop it into my arms.

There is no resistance by those fierce talons.

None.

Not good. And a large open wound on the left shoulder, and that wing is broken and immobile. And bleeding from the left eye, indicative of a probable brain injury.

Not very many folks have had the experience of killing an eagle. I have, two or three times.

It's not fun.

But necessary when the injuries are either eventually fatal or non-recoverable.

A paraplegic eagle is a dead eagle. Why delay matters? Why extend suffering when there is no hope?

When we get home, I make a more thorough inspection. Absolutely no response from either leg or foot. Otherwise, a quite alert and pissed off bird. Both pupils functional and responsive to light.

A call to the Audubon folks gets a busy signal. Several times. So I make the call to the vet.

$10 to put the bird down. Basically the cost of the drugs and nothing else.

When out miles from anywhere with no other options, I have strangled an eagle, and asphyxiated another. Worth $10 to avoid that again.

But not until I check with the rehab folks. Finally get through.

She agrees it sounds bad. But they have had other eagles lose control of their legs to head injuries, and then regain it after the cranial swelling was reduced.

"I would hate to deny him his chance."

That's all I needed to hear. "See you in about two hours."

When I transferred the eagle to her care, it lunged at my face with the beak. Never had one do that before.

It also grabbed at me with the right talons.

Fiercely.

One leg recovered in just a few hours. A good sign.