Chasing Elvis

Last week I passed by Elvis on my way out of the park. He was standing opposite of me, on the ledge smack dab in the middle of the reflection pond. To get to him I'd have to go a long way whether I walked right or left, so I called for him to come over. I waved a piece of bread his way, singing, "Elvis! Ellllllvis!"

He immediately started for the water, but teetered, hemmed and hawed. As I continued to gesture, he tried in earnest to jump but something was off. I finally said, "Elvis, you're a DUCK. Get in the water already." He did.

When he got close I did a visual check: eyes bright, attentive, no problem swimming, body robust, feathers all good, and an appetite.

So I fed him and left.

Yesterday I returned, just to see if he was OK. He was standing in the shallows on the steps of the falls, the water flowing over his feet. I'd never seen him do this before (Elvis's world is small, and he's a creature of habit), and when I called, he didn't react.

Though I failed at all neighborhood sports back in the day, I do have a great throwing arm. I hurled pieces of bread all the way to him. If they landed close by, he wouldn't budge, but if I got them within pecking range he ate. Once those were gone, he gazed at the rest. He lifted one foot up but when he went to place it he pulled back as if he were testing a fire. After three or four attempts he finally took a step but very quickly shifted his weight to the other leg. Elvis was clearly limping.

Maternal instincts ablaze, I put down my bag and waded in. He was a little nervous (a reminder he isn't fully tame) so I took it slow, squatting to reduce my size. His leg didn't look swollen, and I couldn't see any cuts or lumps. I'd once seen the undersides of his webs and was surprised to see thick greyish pink pads of skin, much like a cat or dog. Maybe he'd gotten a gash and was standing here to soak it.

I reviewed my options with a frown. Do I call the park offices, the SPCA, take him to a vet on my own? And then there's the moral quandry: If I get involved, will that be worse for Elvis? Sometimes when we humans intervene, it's not always best. I don't claim to know how to tell that, but this is where the respect of nature's course comes in (we oft think that means letting an animal die but nature can also heal). I decided to let him be for the night. If it got worse, I'd call the zoo for advice.

The next day I saw Elvis through our telescope, hanging with a his buds on the side of the pool. It looked like he was walking more easily.I later went down there just to make sure.By that time he was being chased by a little boy and running quite well. Sigh.