Part 2: The Rescue

When Michael came home around 4 PM, we intended to go to the office building, but Michael had a plan and decided to drive to the village hall instead. He told the story to someone who worked for the mayor, and within a few minutes, she said that someone would meet us at the pond. Although there were no guarantees that they could do anything, she said they would try.

When we arrived at the pond, we met with an engineer from the Public Works Department. While he assessed the situation, the Animal Control officer pulled up, looking very upset--especially when the Public Works engineer pointed out that the grating was clipped on, not welded. (It was evident looking at the grating that welding was not involved, as large clips were all over the metal!) A small crowd started to form, trying to see what was going on. As if on cue, a businessman stopped by and asked what was happening. When he heard the peeping, he got philosophical and talked about how awful it was and how the situation would be *so different* if it were a child or dog down there. Then he sat down next to us, lit up, and waited; it was clear that he wasn't going anywhere until the bird was rescued. (I wanted to hug him.) Wait...it got better. A female duck climbed onto the sewer grate, plopped herself down, and started quacking while the peeping continued.

When the fire truck arrived, the lead fireman assessed the situation. Michael asked him if there was hope, and he told us that they still save cats and dogs and even lost one of their own rescue dogs in the line of duty last winter. (This guy was awesome. He wore sunglasses--RoboFireman!--and calmly gave orders like it was a piece of cake.)

All at once a ladder, ropes, lights, tools, and a guy wearing a red, *full-body* wetsuit(!!!) emerged from the fire truck. Just as Mr. wetsuit was preparing to enter the water, they received a call. Everyone stood silently, waiting for the response. But luck was with that bird; another engine responded to the call. So Mr. wetsuit looked at his buddies and exclaimed, "I'm goin' down there!" When he entered he water, I felt safe, like the weight of the world was lifted from my shoulders. My part was done and the rest became a blur. The grate popped off with ease. In a flurry of activity, the ladder went down, and Mr. wetsuit gave an initial report; there was not ONE, not TWO, but THREE baby birds down the sewer hole! Everyone was shocked. I ran to get a box and saw one bird pulled out, but had to go and make a call. When I returned a few minutes later, everyone was gone and the truck was leaving. These were some very lucky birds.