I could hear the loons singing as the water gently lapped against the dock. I was on my way home from my job at the wildlife park ten miles away. As I went by the lake, I noticed something floating on the water by the shoreline. It looked a lot like a loon. It was only September and I knew the hunting season didn't start until December. As I looked at the helpless animal I saw a gunshot wound at the base of its neck. There was blood all over it, so I couldn't be sure what type of bird it was. When I put the animal in my car, I heard it whining in pain. I knew that I had to hurry or it would not live. I finally got to the hospital, which was about five miles away.

The doctor there asked me if I knew what had happened. I was in such hysteria that I didn't know what he was saying. Finally I told him that I found the bird by the lake. Because the bullet exploded in the bird, the doctor would have to get all the shrapnel out. After ten hours the doctor told me the bird was going to live for a long time. I went in and discovered it was a loon. I took the bird back to the wildlife park to recover from the gunshot wound. After the winter, the loon had recovered fully and was flying with the rest of her flock. ^