A Raven's very last rest

Buddy, the Pomeranian dog, was dashing out the door at noon for a walk before he jumps the twin-engine plane on the 12:30 flight to return home to his master in Hoonah.  We didn’t get around the corner from the property before a Raven fell from the sky directly in front of us, it’s body bounced a couple of times before landing in the street’s grassy ditch.  I thought at first it was playing hide-and-seek with us because it must have picked up on Buddy being a playful dog.  Yet when I approached the raven, I watched as he gasped his last breath, tongue protruding sharply and with a sudden seizure he froze.

Buddy did not approach him.  I looked around for other ravens who may be flying about the high winds and downpour – no one in sight.  I looked up and down the street; looked into other neighbor’s windows – no sign of life – not even the common sounds of the neighborhood ravens.  A wet silence approached from the ground up.  Not knowing what to do, I took out my camera.

He lies in front of my parent’s house on this freezing, wet, windy day.  I’m not sure how to handle the passing of a raven.  I think of a burial, but that doesn’t seem right since they naturally die in the wilderness without a coffin!   I think of leaving him there for a week, and imagine plucking its feathers, imagining creating a Raven headdress,  but what if another animal drags him away and mutilates him?  Its body is still warm; I walk away with Buddy running up ahead full of bounce and life.  He did not make it on the 12:30 flight to Hoonah.