Earlier this summer, during her daily wanderings Mrs. Wolves came across a turkey vulture that apparently had suffered a broken wing. Most likely happened when the bird was eating road kill and got hit by a car. Anyway, he was flapping around in Farmer John's field -- and the farmer's name is almost undoubtedly not John, but there you have it -- unable to fly. She saw him several times over the next few days, and I figured he would die. He wasn't looking good:
And then one day, he was gone. Well, about six weeks later, Lazarus makes his return appearance. Still can't fly, but he's looking much better:
Walking around, chomping on dumpster stuff, doubtless enjoying various other carrion as his kind are wont to do. Good to see he made it. Apparently, nothing eats vultures.
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