There’s a time and a place for everything, or so they say. If you believe in magic, as I do, it could be that you are, on occasion, positioned in exactly the right time and place, where you are supposed to be to make a difference. And when you are, it is your duty as a human being, to make it happen.
I was back in my hometown. It was another beautiful morning, and I was enjoying the flexibility of my new hip and knee, the freedom of walking along the shingle beach and taking delight in the simple pleasures of strolling along a shingle beach, without pain. I had been too many years without those luxuries that I now never take for granted.
I was meeting friends on the beach for an 8 a.m. “Sea Goddess” swim and I did not want to be late. I was super early, so I opted to seize some me-time in hand and take advantage of the early-morning tranquility, the lulling movement of the sun sparkle on the waves, the eternal music of the sea on the shingle, the peace. I strolled out towards Thorpeness, the next village along the coast, knowing that I had a good 15 minutes to enjoy alone — just the sea, the sky, my memories and me.
By the lifeboat, for no good reason, I lift my head and witness a very large seagull in distress. These East Coast seagulls are just amazing creatures to behold — they are large and fierce with an outstanding wingspan. On an ordinary day, you don’t just walk up to them and befriend them. But this one was struggling. Oh no. I could see that a large fishing lure with multiple hooks was pushed through her beak and she was already listless and in bad shape. With all peace around me instantly evaporating, I picked her up and stroked her back, trying to calm her and stop her fighting me, while I figured out the best plan of action.
I looked up and down the beach. Ah, an innocent looking man sitting on the pebbles, enjoying his morning coffee in peace. He thought.
I rushed in his direction. “Help me, I need help!” I yelped as I stumbled along the shingle with a very large bird in one arm and my swim stuff hanging off the other. The young man looked surprised and startled. “Whaaaat?” he managed, before I fell upon him. “You have to get this nasty hook out of her beak,” I coached, “or she will certainly die!” By now, the gull had calmed and stopped fighting me with her powerful body. She must have sensed that we were her best bet at getting her out of this terrible situation she was in. I petted her powerful back and whispered to her that everything was going to be alright.
The young man maneuvered the hook back and forth. “It’s caught in there pretty tight,” he whispered. “Yes, just do it,” I encouraged back, finally watching the nasty metal slide out of the seagull’s beak, leaving only a tiny speck of blood. “Well done!” I yelped and held this magnificent bird up in both hands so she could fly away. “You did it, you did it!” I cooed to the still-startled stranger. I nearly kissed him. “And that was your good deed for the day!” I added, as an afterthought. The amazing seagull flew up and away, as if nothing had happened.
I told my sea-goddesses in the sea everything that had happened. They were so happy we managed to extricate the lovely seagull from the nasty hook, and all agreed that it was going to be a very good day from this moment on. And it was.
Move stage forwards and back home to California. My friend had posted that her dog had escaped through the gate that morning and she had not been able to find her. If there’s an animal involved, I’m always very keyed up, so I shared and shared, hoping someone had seen her or picked her up. One of the great things about social media, I do say. I kept checking on social media during the day to see if there had been a good result, if Jozie had been found. Nothing. Late afternoon I texted her. “Any luck?” I could tell by her return tone that there was no good news to share. As the light of the day began to fade, I thought of my friend Letty and how anguished she was when her lovely Shepherd Loba would escape the perimeter of the house. I sent the photo over to her and told her that my friend didn’t live very far away from her house, and could she keep her eye out.
“I’m going to go and look for her!” she replied without a blink. The light was fast fading now and I was a little bit speechless. My friend Tina had been searching for her beloved Jozie all day. How would Letty be able to find her? I receive a call… “I see her, I see her, but she won’t let me catch her!” Letty already had her eyes on the pup!
“OMG,” I exhale super loud and enquire about her whereabouts. It was just around the corner from my friend’s house. I call my friend Tina. “She’s on Viewpointe!“ I exclaim, as a completely inefficient intermediary. “Here’s Letty’s number — she’s following her!” I simply could not believe all this kerfluffle. I sit and wait for some good news, as the dusky dark fills the sky. “Tina has her,” Letty texts me. Oh my, after all that agony and chaos, the little dog was just around the corner from her home, but Letty was the one who found her in the end. “We have been out ALL DAY calling for her, looking, driving around the neighborhood, knocking on doors, pinning up flyers!” says the exasperated and exhausted Tina, who was losing her voice and tired beyond belief.
“It’s OK, buddy, she’s home,” I tell her. ‘Right place and right time and all that.”
Oh, we all went to bed so happy that night, especially Jozie, I expect, who might never want to wander out and get lost again.
I think about the seagull that nearly died and little Jozie that was nearly completely lost and the humans that made the time to make these innocent creatures a priority. Sometimes it is good, through all the chaos, to get a renewed belief in the goodness of humans, when they reach out to help the animals. These two incidents did just that for me this past month. Right place and right time, naturally; but also good intent. The perfect recipe.
Columnist Lucy Jensen may be reached at lu*************@***il.com.
