Have you ever done something illegal, having no idea that it was illegal? In the spirit of the new year I have a confession to make.
I was hiking up a narrow trail when I saw four beautiful feathers on the ground, with no injured bird or nest in sight. Totally forgetting one of my favorite sayings, “take nothing from the mountains except memories and leave nothing but footprints,” I got caught up in the moment and picked up the feathers. I thought they were some kind of a sign.
ELBEE That is total rationalization.
I was pretty sure they were from a red tailed hawk. I have always found such peace in watching the hawks soar overhead. I had an unforgettable experience when one flew so low, it’s talons brushed my hair. A man hiking behind me asked, “Did I just see what I thought I saw?
ELBEE I’m sure the hawk thought it was nesting material.
When I got home I took a photo of Gus wearing the feathers. Then I googled red 
tailed hawk to see if I was correct. The good news is that I was. The bad news is that it’s against the law to take those feathers.
GUS Oh no. I hope I don’t get charged as an accessory
Overcome with guilt, and afraid I might be arrested, I hiked up and returned the feathers to the mountains. In retrospect, I probably shouldn’t have taken Gus’s picture. Then, in the true spirit of atonement and also trying to clear my guilty conscience, I thought it would be a good idea to do some sort of community service.
As luck would have it, it was Gus’s turn to visit the adult day health center. The participants, ranging in age from their twenties up to their eighties, are dealing with issues such as schizophrenia, bipolar disorder and depression. Others have severe physical disabilities.
Due to COVID, the dogs have been unable to visit for most of the past year. From the moment I walked in with Gus, there was a ripple of joy. The regulars gave him a warm welcome back. Staff members walked over to tell me how much the dogs had been missed.
Especially touching was seeing the man in his sixties who only smiles when the dogs are there. Awhile back, before the pandemic, a therapist caught him smiling for the first time in months as he petted Stanley. He wrote me a letter sharing how much the dogs mean to him.
As Gus and I made our way around the large room, stopping to visit people sitting on scattered couches and at the lunch tables, he stayed with us. Even with a mask on, I could see that he had a constant smile on his face.
I have a very strange note to add. As Gus was sitting in the yard for his
“feather” photo, a red tailed hawk suddenly started circling overhead. When I went to take the feathers off of Gus, there were five! My husband, a man of science, was a witness.
