DRIVEWAY RESCUE: Operation Grebe

This is a "driveway" not a "runway"
This is a “driveway” not a “runway”

I spent the last week down by Lac qui Parle.  I’m in the process of moving down there to be in the heart of Minnesota’s wildlife-filled prairie.  I saw no shortage of waterfowl, deer, pheasants and turkeys-some sitting right on the lawn.  But it took coming back to my Fargo-Moorhead home to have the closest encounter with something you’d normally see in floating in a wetland.

This deer decided the backyard was a good place for a nap.
This deer decided the backyard was a good place for a nap.

I was in the yard doing some trimming, while my lab, Mika, lounged nearby.  Suddenly a noisy commotion came from beside my garage and the next thing I knew, there is a horned grebe sitting in my driveway!

"Help."
“Help.”
Apparently Batman had arrived to help out.
Apparently Batman had arrived to offer assistance.

Well my waterfowl-loving lab wasted no time in getting acquainted with this web-footed friend.  I called her off and decided to get some pictures of the adventure.  I didn’t want her to cause further injury to the bird and I didn’t want the pointy-billed grebe to hurt my dog!

What they heck is he doing in my driveway!?
What they heck is he doing in my driveway!?

After some hilarious back and forth between the two, I decided to start herding the bird two blocks to the south, to the safe confines of the Red River.  I’m sure that’s where he came from, just not sure what knocked him out of the sky over my house.

Mika sez "hey, get back 'er you!"
Mika sez “hey, get back ‘er you!”
He held his own against Mika!
He held his own against Mika!

Maybe I’m just getting so good at waterfowl hunting that birds just fall out of the sky around me??? I mean, it could be true, right? (lol)

Showdown!
Showdown!
I didn't realize grebes could morph into dangerous cobras.
I didn’t realize grebes could morph into dangerous cobras.

Halfway to the river we found a bike path with a small puddle on it-remnants of the flooding that took place here recently.  The grebe relentlessly tried his best to dive out of harms way, but the shallow water wouldn’t give.

Horned grebe close up.
Horned grebe close up.
Diving in this puddle wasn't going to work.
Diving in this puddle wasn’t going to work.
This puddle was a temporary respite from the battle.
This puddle was a temporary respite from the battle.
Trying to swim his way out of the puddle.
Trying to swim his way out of the puddle.

Getting a second wind and the courage to employ an awkward looking sprint towards the river, the grebe was smelling freedom.   Finally he splashed down in his home water, stretched once or twice and dove.  Some strong, underwater paddles followed, and the adventure was over.

Run Grebe, Run!
Run Grebe, Run!
They won't win any beauty contests while they're running.
They won’t win any beauty contests while they’re running.
Once back to the river, it was time to stretch!
Once back to the river, it was time to stretch!
Home sweet home.
Home sweet home.

There’s no question that we have plenty of wildlife in and around town in the FM area, but I certainly didn’t expect to see a grebe inside this metro area after spending the week immersed in the sparsely populated Lac qui Parle countryside.  Not often you get a close up experience like this with nature.  I also didn’t mind the welcome break from yard work.

See ya!
See ya!

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