I know that many of you have been on pins and needles awaiting the second part to the column I started last week. I toyed with the thought of making it even more exciting by calling this weeks column "Wildlife Rescues Gone Bad!" But it doesn't involve anything like maiming or dismembering so I decided against it.

It was several years ago, on a warm summer night, the dispatcher said that a Grundy Center police officer had encountered an injured owl on a residential street up by the high school. When I got there, the headlights of the squad car were illuminating a small Screech Owl sitting in the gutter. We spoke briefly and I approached the owl for a better look. In officer jargon, I was accessing the situation and contemplating the safest and most prudent action to effect the capture and transport of the injured bird of prey.

The bird did as injured owls many times do - it flipped onto its back. This position places the legs and very sharp talons in the path of a potential predator or in this case a well-intentioned rescuer. Now, for those of you who read last weeks column, I just know what you must be thinking right about now. "I'll bet he didn't have any gloves." Well, I did have gloves - back in the truck. Remember, this was just a little Screech Owl.

I carefully moved around to the side and gathered the bird in my hands successfully avoiding the sharp beak and talons. We stood there under the streetlight and admired the little fella. That's when things generally go wrong - when you let your guard down. The bird made a quick move like a wrestler starting from the down position in a match. Momentarily caught off guard, I grappled to get a firm grasp again. That's when a finger of mine slid into an outstretched foot of his. Four sharp talons clamped down on that finger. Did it hurt? You betcha!

I remember the other officer looking at the bird and then looking at me. "Doesn't that hurt?" he asked. "Yea, it kinda does," I bravely answered. And all the time I was mustering all of the strength that I could muster. The purpose was to keep from screaming like a little kid. Word gets around places like sheriff's offices pretty quickly sometimes. And if anything was going to get around about this, I wanted it to finish with how tough 38-20 was - not the high pitch of his scream.

That was a long time ago. I can't even remember what happened to the owl. But it was a lesson that you should always practice safety first. And I promise, after the encounter with the hawk a couple of weeks ago, I will.