The Eagle Rescue That Turned into a 911 call

“Bob! Can you get to Bentley’s quickly?”

The voice on the other end of the phone continued, “There are two eagles fighting in the ditch out front!”

“I’ll get there as quickly as I can,” I replied.

The call had come from the Wildlife Center of Venice, Florida. I dropped the phone, called for Shelecia to grab the net, and ran outside to retrieve the large animal carrier sitting beside the garage.

We threw the net and carrier into my SUV and sped toward Bentley’s, a resort hotel about a mile and a half away on Tamiami Trail. Also known as Highway 41, Tamiami Trail is a major four-lane divided highway running through Sarasota.

As we raced up the highway and through a yellow light, I could already see a crowd gathering around the ditch in front of the hotel. I skidded to a stop about 100 feet away, grabbed the net and began running toward the commotion.

“Move back!” I shouted. “I’m with wildlife rescue!”

The ditch contained several inches of water. One bald eagle was on top of the other, apparently attempting to drown it. We quickly concluded that it was probably a territorial fight.

With the net raised, I pushed through the crowd until I reached the birds. As I prepared to bring the net down, a thought suddenly occurred to me:

What in the hell am I going to do with two fighting eagles in one net?

The approaching net solved that problem for me. The birds immediately separated and headed in opposite directions as the crowd finally scattered.

The dominant eagle flew straight upward, knocking the net aside. The other bird was soaked, exhausted and badly ruffled. It flapped its wings and struggled to take flight, but it could only hop along the edge of the road.

Then it turned and headed directly into four lanes of rush-hour traffic.

Shelecia bolted after it, shouting and waving her arms in an effort to slow or stop the traffic. The drivers did neither. I am still not sure how Shelecia, the eagle or I made it across the median and all four lanes without being hit.

Shelecia continued pursuing the bird with the net over her shoulder. I followed, running as fast as I could while dodging traffic and trying to catch up.

About halfway across the highway, the eagle’s adrenaline must have kicked in. It became airborne, but only barely. It desperately tried to gain altitude, rising no more than six feet above the ground before settling again.

The eagle eventually scurried beneath a row of hedges lining a long concrete wall surrounding a neighborhood. By then, we had chased it for roughly 100 yards.

Out of breath and trying to determine our next move, I directed Shelecia to work her way behind the bird through the hedges. We did not know how badly it was injured, but we knew we could not allow it to escape back toward the highway.

I dropped to my knees and slowly crawled into the hedges in front of the eagle. It watched me warily as I tried to maneuver the large three-foot net into the narrow space between the hedges and the wall.

For several moments, the eagle and I simply stared at one another.

Seeing the bird that closely, I was again struck by its extraordinary beauty. I could also see several small specks of red that I assumed were blood. I felt an enormous responsibility not only to capture the eagle and get it treated, but also to avoid causing any additional injuries in the process.

After a few moments, the eagle began fluffing its feathers and moving its wings. I assumed it was planning an escape route.

I knew I had to act soon.

I turned the bulky net sideways and tried to position it parallel to the wall. Unfortunately, the net was too wide to turn and lower over the bird. If the eagle escaped and headed toward the highway again, I doubted we would be as lucky the second time.

Shelecia was several feet behind the eagle, and I was several feet in front of it. The bird could go up, backward or sideways.

The net was attached to a six-foot pole. I slowly slid it sideways along the wall until it was positioned beside the eagle. Each time I moved forward a foot, the eagle stepped backward a foot, never taking its eyes off me.

The situation reminded me of an earlier eagle rescue. In that instance, an injured eagle had been hiding beneath some brush. While watching me and my large net, it unknowingly backed directly into Shelecia’s arms.

She grabbed both legs at the same time, covered the bird’s head and tucked it beneath her arm. The weak and injured eagle relaxed and allowed us to carry it to a waiting carrier some distance away.

I am still amazed that it happened that way. This time, however, I hoped Shelecia would not try to grab the bird’s legs. There would have been no practical way to control a fighting eagle inside those thick hedges.

The standoff lasted approximately 10 minutes.

I continued inching forward. Fortunately, the eagle finally stepped backward into the only opening in the entire row of hedges where there was enough room to turn the net.

I lowered it over him.

I let out a huge sigh of relief.

Sirens that I had heard in the distance were growing louder. I told Shelecia to retrieve the SUV and bring the carrier up to the wall. She ran across the field as two sheriff’s vans arrived with their sirens shutting down. A volunteer from the Wildlife Center arrived at about the same time.

I remember thinking, “It’s wonderful that they would send this much law enforcement assistance for an eagle.”

The deputies gathered outside the hedges and peered in while Shelecia returned with the carrier and pushed it as close to the opening as possible.

For the first time, I was able to breathe more easily and rest my back against the wall. I could hear the police radios squawking inside the vans, although I could not understand what they were saying.

I asked the Wildlife Center volunteer, who had been talking with the deputies, why so many officers were there.

He chuckled.

“They aren’t here for the eagle,” he said. “They’re responding to a possible domestic violence incident. Someone reported seeing a man chasing a woman across Tamiami Trail with a net.”

It took me a moment to process what he had said.

The police were still looking for the man who had been seen chasing a woman across the highway with a net.

That man was me.

Everyone began laughing, and the entire scene suddenly became hilarious.

While I was still laughing and trying to explain myself, a woman arrived and announced, “I’m an eagle biologist. Who are you?”

I identified myself as a wildlife rescue volunteer.

By then, a female sheriff’s deputy had also figured out what was happening and asked whether she could help. She moved carefully behind the netted bird. Together, the deputy and I lifted the net and guided the eagle into the carrier while the biologist watched. Once the bird was safely inside, the biologist closed the carrier door.

We loaded the carrier into my SUV and transported the eagle to the Wildlife Center. The people at the center were overjoyed to see us arrive with the bird safely contained.

It was a wonderful moment.

Three days later, Shelecia and I returned to the Wildlife Center to pick up the eagle. It had not been badly injured. It was simply bruised, exhausted and soaking wet from the fight.

We drove the bird several miles from the sanctuary and released it not far from where we had first encountered it. Watching it return to the sky gave us another unforgettable memory.

A week or so later, we read a thrilling story in Tribune Herald about an Eagle Biologist & her daughter who saw the fight from the sky to the ditch in front of Bentleys and rescued the Eagle.