Lori Singer of Princeton
My sister and her family came to my home in Princeton for a visit over New Year’s holiday. Because they planned to stay the weekend, they brought along their pet cockatiel, Wally. As they were transporting Wally from the car to the house, the bottom fell off of his cage. Wally made a move toward the car. But before my sister could grab him, he changed direction and flew off down the street.
All of us hit the street after him, but, for a bird whose wings are routinely clipped, he was able to fly remarkably far, remarkably fast, and we lost sight of him. After two hours of patrolling and calling and whistling there was still no sign of Wally. Feeling desolate, my sister, my brother-in-law and I were taking a final tour, when in response to my brother-in-law’s whistle, we heard his familiar chirp. Wally was standing on the branch of a nearby tree, low enough for my brother-in-law to reach in. Wally hopped onto his hand. We were flooded with relief — but, it lasted only a moment. Still frightened, Wally took off once more, this time lodging in a tree on a branch about 20 or 25 feet from the ground.
Out came my six-foot ladder, every pole I had in my broom closet, a roll of duck tape, birdseed, his cage — but we could not entice Wally off the tree. Calling, whistling, even a few tossed pinecones could not dislodge him. After about an hour, and with dropping temperatures and night coming on, my mother suggested we call the fire department. My brother-in-law and I scoffed. It was one thing for firemen to save a cat or a dog, but years-old cynicism convinced us that they would never come out for a pet parrot. My mother persisted – what did we have to lose? My sister began a series of phone calls to the Princeton Police, small animal rescue and the Princeton Fire Department. Miraculously, the fire chief agreed to come out and assess the situation.
So on a Saturday night, leaving a sick wife at home, Chief Rick McKee arrived at my home. Still I was skeptical — I was sure he would take one look at Wally way up in that tree and dismiss the situation. Instead, over the next hour-and-a-half, Chief McKee, assisted by firemen Jeff Golomb, Jim Simon and Jonathan Hoekzema, as well as T.J. Williams from Princeton EMS and Rescue, shined bright lights, shook the tree, whistled and hollered. Wally looked on from his perch way up and would not move.
Watching from my front window, I saw the lights go out. It’s over, I thought, they have given up. Instead, a few moments went by and another fire truck appeared. This one had a bucket ladder. My brother-in-law and two firemen stepped inside the bucket and up, up, up went the ladder. Moments later, Wally was safely in my brother-in-law’s hand — hand to cage — cage to house. Wally was home.
Ecstatic relief and overwhelming gratitude does not begin to describe my family’s reaction. Disappointing human interaction has made us more than ordinarily attached to our animals. We asked Chief McKee what we could do to express our appreciation. He asked only for this — a thank you note.
Talk about “the kindness of strangers” — it was Chief McKee’s last day as chief. Calling attention to his efforts won’t solidify his position — but, for this family it is a memorable reminder that sometimes people come through for you — in most extraordinary ways.
So, Chief McKee, Jeff Golomb, Jim Simon, Jonathan Hoekzema and T.J. Williams, my mother thanks you, my sister thanks you, my brother-in-law, nephew and daughter thank you, and I thank you for Wally’s safe return.
Lori Singer is a resident of Princeton .
