Ooh, Too Raved, Page 80.

McCrae let something flap out of his hands. It rushed at me, beating its wings against my chest and neck. I grabbed it, and saw that it was a baby loon. How McCrae had managed to catch the bird, I don't know. Attached to its leg was a luggage tag, one of the slips we tied to the cadets' duffels when we shipped them in or out. Cunt, it read in McCrae's lefty handwriting.