The Rescue

It was in August 1989 at Burton Bradstock in Dorset when we found Tarquin, a badly injured raven. Having put the tent up on day one of our two week holiday; we decided to take the children and our dog Ben for a walk on the beach. Whilst walking my daughter, Nina, noticed a big black something in the distance on the shingle. It looked like it had just moved. Nina ran ahead with Ben to investigate. As they got close a big, black beak shot up from the stones and tried to bite Ben. I knew immediately that is was a raven from the size of the beak; even at a distance it looked massive.

Yes, it was a raven and he was in a bad way and very close to death. I picked him up and wrapped him in a towel to take him back to the tent. On examination I found that his right wing was partially severed along with his right leg and his right eye was completely missing. He could not stand or fly and was very skinny and lethargic; I didn't think he would last for long.

I washed all the grit from his wing and leg and the hole where his right eye once was. I cut up a towel and bandaged his right leg to hold it in place and did likewise with his wing. Having done this I managed to get him to reluctantly drink some water and I pushed some dog food down in to his crop, which he promptly swallowed. I sat with him wrapped in a towel all night long and during that time he managed to consume a whole tin of dog food and a good number of sand eels that the children had managed to catch in nets in the surf for him. I fully expected him to die during that first night but to my surprise, the next morning he was looking much brighter and he was generally more alert.

Rambling thoughts in the Night about Corvus Corax

I remember in the night thinking to myself, "Wow this is a Raven, Corvus Corax, the king of the Corvids, bird brain supreme; top of the bird tree; famous in literature, religion, folklore and cultures all over the world; the legendary bird of death and life; friend and helper to humans and carnivores world wide; persecuted in Britain and Europe; what a bird!!! On the other hand I was thinking, how come I am the one that always ends up with the injured birds? It seems to have been that way since I was a young lad, I was always getting in trouble with my parents for bringing home every injured bird from the neighbourhood, sometimes full nests of them that a cat or the wind had had dislodged, people brought them to me when they found them. I had no real idea why. I just cracked on and did my best to help them; sometimes successfully and other times not. I didn't hold out much hope for this poor raven. I also remembered what had switched me on to the Corvids in the first place; a crow that I had rescued as a lad called Caw; by the time he eventually went back into the wild he was silly tame with me. Anyway he came back to see me the next year and brought his whole family with him.He had 6 babies and his new woman. The babies seemed so tame with me, they seemed to have no fear of me, Caw must have told them that they had nothing to fear from me, he may have even told them of his rescue. It seemed that he wanted to introduce us all. They stayed with me for about two hours and then they were gone. I never saw them again, but to this day the whole thing still amazes me. All sorts of things went through my mind that night. I think my brain had gone into overdrive.

The next day

After a night of virtually no sleep and seeing that he was looking a lot brighter I phoned the RSPB and explained his injuries.I wanted to see if there was a rescue centre anywhere that I could take him to for some treatment. They said they were busy rescuing gulls from an oil spillage and suggested I found a quiet place to put him and leave him to die. I rang the RSPCA who were busy helping the RSPB with the gulls and they suggested I put him out of his misery. I was not prepared to take their advice as he was looking so much brighter and I had never seen a raven in the wild before.I was determined to at least give him the best chance possible to get him back on his feet.

Dave the Rave meets his saviour

My dad agreed to drive and take us to the local police station in Bridport who were very helpful; they found us a local vet that was a bird specialist. He agreed to see us straight away and told us to come down to the surgery and he would see us at the end of surgery. When we arrived, the waiting room was full of people with cats waiting for their annual vaccinations. The vet came in to the waiting room to take a quick look at the now named Dave the Rave and promptly cancelled surgery till the following day with no complaints from any of his other patients. We were ushered in to the operating room where Dave was given a sedative. His right wing, right leg and eye socket were thoroughly washed and disinfected. Stitches were inserted to hold his right wing and leg in place.A severed tendon was also rejoined. He was given two injections of different antibiotics to combat any infections and another tonic injection. The vet estimated that his age could be anything up to 65 years. He pointed out that he was an old bird that probably wouldn't have too many more years longer to live. He also pointed out that if he recovered he would never be able to be returned to the wild as he would be severely handicapped with just one eye, and would struggle to hunt and scavenge for food. He also informed us that he would suffer in the cold weather through his other injuries. It was agreed that I would look after Dave the Rave for the rest of his days. The visit in its entirety was hours long and I was charged £1.00 plus VAT.

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