Soffia the Hawk died….

yesterday at “For Pet’s Sake” in Decatur.  Yesterday afternoon.  I hve been calling all damn day and nobody knew?  The man who answered the phone (Andrew?) was very casual about this.  I will not use this clinic again for rescued and injured wildlife.

Jane Kohut-Bartels

Copyrighted, 2019

“Soffia The Hawk Lives!”

 

We think.  We were told  that Soffia was transferred to the  Chattohochee Nature Center in Roswell, but she hasn’t shown up yet according to Catherine, a staff member.  She might be in transit, but we hope she is alive and we are not being lied to by someone.

So….I’ve been on tenderhooks since yesterday and still don’t know the actual fate of this hawk.

But I am hoping for the best and ask for positive thoughts for this beautiful Child of the Skies.

Jane Kohut-Bartels

Copyrighted, 2019

 

“Chicken Hawk Talk”

I have no news on Soffia.  Called at 9am, and the receptionist said “she didn’t see her.” This either is because she died in the night or she has been sent to the Chattahoochee Wildlife Center for rehab.  I am to call this afternoon.  Thank you, for all the people who are pulling for Soffia.  And to Petru in South Africa, thank you from the bottom of our hearts.

Jane….the following poem is a few years old, but it fits for Soffia.

—

Chicken Hawk!

Leave my chickens alone!

I have worked hard for them,

A handmaiden of fowl.

Collecting beautiful eggs

The gift of the species

Naturally dyed

Pink, brown, blue-green and white.

 

These colorful gems

Presented at Easter,

A symbol of the Lamb of God,

And the Spring of Life.

 

Leave my chickens alone, hawk.

I won’t even share.

 

I remember two short years ago,

When I saw you wheeling over the kudzu

Riding the thermals,

Not graced with the brick-colored tail of a proper Red Tail hawk–

 

And I gasped at your splendor, a winged god

From the cosmos, glittering white ash against a cobalt sky,

And you landed one day in my birdbath,

Trying to look like a stone sculpture,

And just the flicker of your 8x eyes

Looked over the songbirds for lunch.

 

 

Jane Kohut-Bartels

Copyrighted, 2016-2019